Distance
by Araceil
Summary: He'd do anything to be free, change his name, his face, his whole identity, ANYTHING. Post OotP. Warnings inside.
1. Prologue

**DISTANCE**

You would run to the ends of the earth just to see the sky.

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**WARNINGS**

Independent!Realistic-as-possible!Skilled!Semi-powerful!Fem!Harry. Lots of local knowledge, Graphic violence, scenes of a mild sexual nature, foul language, Voldemort and his creepy obsessions, Geek humour, abuse of music links, 4Chan (Voldie and Pedo!Bear need to open a salad bar. With pina coladas.)

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**I decided to revolutionise the whole 'Fem!Harry' and the 'Harry-leaves-the-wizarding-world' Genres. They all look the same to my eyes the only difference being the locations, the names and the writing styles. Rather depressing. So I decided to do things MY way. Hopefully its up to par.**

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SUMMARY

He'd do anything to be free, change his name, his face, his whole identity, ANYTHING. Post OotP.

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_I don't own Harry Potter, a lot of locations in here will also not belong to me as they actually exist._

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**PROLOGUE**

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_Neither can live while the other survives..._

_Neither can live while the other survives..._

_Shall mark him as his equal..._

_Born as the seventh month dies..._

_The one with the power to destroy the Dark Lord..._

_Power he knows not..._

_Neither can live while the other survives... … … … … _

He couldn't do this. He couldn't do it anymore. No more.

Thin fingers raked through dark hair, gripping it at the roots and tugging harshly in frustration and impotent anger and helplessness.

He couldn't take this anymore!

He'd lost patience.

No tolerance left.

They'd pushed their luck too far this time.

Harry took a deep breath and released the painful grip he had on his hair as he sat up straight from where he was sat upon his cot-like four-poster bed in Gryffindor Tower, finding a small measure of peace in the soft snoring of his Dorm-mates before guilt twisted at his insides.

The 15-year-old shook his head sharply and brushed aside the feeling, hardening his resolve, they'd had more than a few second chances that he had never been given. That Sirius had never been given.

It was time to go and let the wizards deal with the mess they created.

Harry was through wiping their backsides for them.

The Boy Who Lived took another deep breath, feeling something quivering within him, this was it... He was going to abandon the Wizarding world right when they realised they needed him most. Too bad they were over a year and a half too late to convince him to stay.

Harry had been thinking about this, planning for this, for a long, _long_ time.

It was in his Second Year that he learned the Wizarding world wasn't all it was cracked up to be, the mentality of the majority of them made him feel ill, it was as though they didn't have an original thought in their heads. Whatever they were told they accepted as the gospel truth. In his Third Year he decided that it was much worse, that it was rotten right through to the core, this was when his first desire to leave was born, when Sirius offered him a way out, a home and even if he hadn't been cleared Harry would have gladly gone with him and escaped Hogwarts without a backwards glance. But common sense dictated that it would be easier for Sirius to hide alone than with Harry tagging along for the ride, he would probably get them caught as he neither had an Animagus form and he was entirely too high-profile in the Wizarding World to avoid a massive manhunt for, beyond that of the one Sirius had to suffer through.

With that chance gone, his desire for escape would be forgotten for a time, until his name burst from the depths of the Goblet of Fire and suddenly he became a pariah again. It would rip through his mind at that moment when he was being looked down on by Barty Crouch, Karkaroff, Madam Maxime, Fleur, Krum, Dumbledore and Bagman, the urge to just flip them the bird and walk out, return to Gryffindor Tower, pack his trunk and march out of the school shuddered through his body with such physical force he was left trembling as he made his way back to the Tower. But again, that desire was ridiculous, he was too young, if he left, he would be trapped with the Dursleys, no where to go, an incomplete Muggle education and an incomplete Magical one. Not to mention Voldemort and his Death Eaters always angling to get a shot at him, no he was better off hiding behind Professor Dumbledore's skirts for the time being.

But the thought would always be there.

Festering like a cancer beneath the surface of his thoughts.

He ignored it for the most part, brushed it aside as childish whining, he'd survived the Dursleys with only the occasional desire for escape, nothing this strong, he was getting good meals here and no chores, there was no cupboard and he was learning _magic_ for crying out loud, he had no room for complaint, he was just getting _soft_. But the more he had to deal with, the more it grew and festered and bothered him at night until it became an obsession instead of a desire. Then they began to hate on Hermione for a vicious article that no one could even prove and his waning loyalty to this rancid society finally crumpled like a house of cards.

He'd made his decision. He was going to leave the Wizarding World when he'd finished with Hogwarts and _never_ look back.

Slowly, carefully, he began to prepare.

He had to be careful because he had a fleeting idea that if _anyone_ knew what he was planning they would do anything within their power to prevent him from his freedom, he would sneak out under the cloak with the map at night to research things in the library. He'd always been good at illusions, whether holding the illusion of an idiot child, a happy childhood, a mask to hide his emotions or lately, a magical image projected onto the water particles in the air, a simple image of himself fast asleep on his bedding would be enough to deter anyone from bothering him, especially with the dark bruises he'd placed under his eyes. Everyone knew he didn't get enough sleep as it was so they would be loath to wake him up unless it was an emergency. For the entirety of his Fourth Year he did this, he would begin to catch up on his Muggle education during that Summer when he had a chance to slip off into the City and buy the books he needed, but for now, he studied the most obscure mangicks he could, anything to try and help him in his bid for freedom. Silencing Charms over the restricted section prevented any of the alarms from going off and he wore Dragon Hide gloves so that the powdered preservation potions didn't damage his skin and leave noticeable rashes – he recalled Hermione complaining of uncomfortable burns on her hands from handling the Moste Potente Potions and some of the older books in the library due to the potions that Madam Pince painted onto the parchment to prevent shrinking or fading or mouldering. Parchment was animal skin after all, it would rot away after a time.

He was careful to never give any hint of his extra studying, the only time he offered even a glimpse of this ability was in the Graveyard, like he said, he was _very_ good with illusions, during his Duel against Voldemort he managed to confuse the Dark Lord enough to dissuade him from using his more violent curses and escape. It was one of the reasons why he never offered the Memory for the Minister or Dumbledore to review, he didn't want them to know of his ability, it would put him in danger of discovery.

It was during the Summer, when everyone thought he was brooding and sulking, that he made the first steps towards his freedom. He managed to get an idea of the rota of his guards early on – they honestly thought they were being discreet but they really weren't – and slipped off with an Illusion left in his wake to make everyone think he was in his room or out in the garden. He stole money out of his Aunt's purse – she never questioned it because even when Harry wasn't there money went missing whenever her Dudders wanted a new game, so she didn't question it when the money vanished even when Harry WAS there – and took the bus into the city where he bought a number of books on science, maths, english, history, law and geography. He even got some little hand books on computers and mobile phones, just to make sure he was up to date with current technology, but his greatest purchase was a tourist attraction map book, it had pictures of almost everywhere in Britain. Harry had practically devoured it looking for the ideal place to make his new home, he ended up giving Cornwall and the South coast a good eye-balling.

Then the Dementors came, which screwed almost EVERYTHING up, but at the same time, offered him such a unique opportunity for escape that he didn't defend himself as well as he could in that Court Case. Dumbledore had to interrupt that one.

He managed to hide his books just in time for when Tonks came up to help him pack and even managed to get some studying of them done while at Grimmauld Place, he vanished quite often for the sake of 'brooding'. Which worked wonderfully in his favour, he knew what he had to do now, what he needed to do and how he was going to go about doing it. A little muggle notebook stashed in a wadge of Uncle Vernon's nasty socks with a bullet pointed list that he had been able to charm invisible and encoded just to be extra difficult with an old wand he found in a room he could only assume belonged to Sirius's younger brother Regulus (he kept the wand, it was fairly compatible with him). Even if Hermione did manage to reveal the text, there was no way she could understand it, she probably wouldn't even know what it was. Ahh, the beauty of Binary, no one could read it unless they were an UBER!muggle-geek. It took Harry himself four hours just to write it all down and that was with a reference book to help him.

His only problem now... was making it happen.

But, as anyone who knew him well could say, once he put his mind to something, he got it done, down pat, in very little time.

It would be a little strong to say Harry hated the Wizarding World, but it wouldn't be too far away from the truth. He was, if anything, ambivalent toward the Magical Community. It was wonderful and beautiful but the corruption poisoned that, made it rancid and foul... Harry was born between pity and revulsion to be perfectly honest.

But finally... revulsion had won out.

During his Fifth Year he'd made certain everything was ready for his departure, Umbridge had been his final straw, with her, he knew he couldn't remain. His doubts vanished. All that remained was gaining the courage to make the break and actually leave, never to look back until he was ready.

So much for Gryffindor bravery, it took Slytherin self preservation and mind numbing fear to give him the final push to harden his resolve to do this.

Of course he was scared!

Contrary to popular belief, he _wasn't_ an arrogant fool, and he wasn't suicidal either! Of course he was bat-shit terrified! It was only right and proper when you find out the Fates were planning on pitting you, a school boy, against a mad man with 50 years more experience, 50 years more power and 50 years more knowledge than you had! And that an entire civilisation were betting on _you_ coming out the victor! He was completely outclassed and didn't stand a chance in the slightest of _surviving! Let alone _**winning!**

Harry sighed and began his usual night time rituals. Tomorrow, he would make sure everything was prepared and ready.

He would have one chance and one chance only at this, if he failed, they would keep him under lock and key and guard until they decided it was time to get rid of their problem and push him out into the Dragon's nest. The Final Battle and the place where he _would_ die.

Climbing into bed, he stared at the canopy ceiling above him, thinking. Would Sirius have approved of his running away?

No.

No he wouldn't have. But he was dead. Whether he approved or not didn't matter anymore, this was _his_ life, Sirius may have been happy to throw his away for a cause that believed him to be a murdering bastard, but Harry was not.

It was his life, not Sirius's, not Dumbledore's, not the Ministry's and Harry very much wanted to remain among the living.

That wasn't too much to ask.

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**So what do you guys think?**

**I tried to keep the way Harry's going about this as realistic as possible, so many stories have him just deciding to up and vanish without giving any thought to what he's doing or how he'll handle the legal side of things when he HAS vanished. Never mind where he goes or what he does when he gets there.**

**Now, riddle me this ladies and gentlemen...**

**If you were Harry, and you had the entire Magical Community hunting you, how would you hide? How would you change yourself? Where would you go? How would you continue your magical education?**

**Keep in mind all the resources I've mentioned in this prologue, but also remember everything about legal ramifications, the little things that you run into every day that may prove difficult for Harry to face against in his new life. If they're good enough, or something I haven't thought of, they may make an appearance later on with full credit as well.**

**What **_would_** you do? I want to know.**

**Drop me a review – signed in if you want me to answer any questions, because I won't be putting them up in the next chapter.**

Araceil

Major update peoples. Black Birds, Lightning on the Wave, Resonance, two new stories, A Mile in Your Eyes – HPNaruto crossover featuring Harry and Sakura as cousins. And Distance – a new take on the whole 'Harry leaves the Wizarding world' gig. Check them out and enjoy the updates 8DD


	2. Chapter 1

**DISTANCE**

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**The response for this had been ****HUGE****, I'm flattered guys, I really am. I started this for the lols and honestly only expected something like three reviews due to the whole 'fem!Harry' thing. (Its not very popular from what I saw) but it warms my heart to see so many of you taking the time to answer my little non!Riddle. Thank you all for the comments and ideas, you're all gems and I love you.**

**Second writing of this chapter, mainly because I feel I missed some important stuff out in the first writing and I'd like to keep that first copy as a kind of rough guideline. 8DD**

**ENJOY!**

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**CHAPTER ONE**

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It was a nice little white washed building, seemed clean and she could hear loud music and laughter, smell the food on the breeze, it had been ages since she'd last had something to eat. Not since this morning at that little café when she'd managed to get herself an apple Danish and a cup of tea, it wasn't a great cup of tea but it was good enough.

She was insanely glad she'd had the forethought to do a little research on House/flat-hunting, she hadn't expected it to be such a long and time consuming process, which meant she was homeless until she could find that place that she could call her own. Which was where the problem came. She'd foolishly and naively thought that she could put herself up in a hotel, but the _prices_, good grief they were so expensive compared to the motels she'd been staying in over the past three weeks – then again, motels in Switzerland were cheaper than in England due to the Pound to Euro exchange. Then she'd thought 'homeless shelter', it was essentially what she was until she could find that home she was looking for, but the only one she knew of was St James' Shelter on Albert Road South just off Canute Road, she'd given it a look but the religious people there kind of frightened her, mind flashing back to the History books she'd read in school. She knew they were the Do-Gooder types and true they weren't going to _burn_ her but... the threat that they might do something _else _to her had the girl turning tail and marching in the opposite direction.

Which had led her here.

The Brimar Guest House on High Street Road, Totton, just over the otherside of the River to Southampton.

It wasn't a Hostel like she was looking for, but she'd come to an agreement with the woman in charge of Managing the place, since she didn't know how long it would take to find herself somewhere to live, she would pay a reduced price for a weekly stay, but make the difference by working for the Guest House in either cooking or cleaning. Which was great because it had been a while since she'd done any cooking or cleaning of that nature and she really needed to get back into the swing of things before she found her own place, she didn't want it getting cluttered, messy and disgusting because she'd forgotten how to use a Vacuum Cleaner.

Today would be the day she got back from her first interview with the Landlady of Northern House flats, Beatrice Road, just off Shirley Highstreet in Shirley, Southampton.

The Landlady was a nice older woman by the name of Rosie Miller, she was a widow with two grown children, David and Chelsea, who were now both married, David to a '_Nice young lady_' and Chelsea to '_a greasy unshaven ex-con_' – apparently, Chelsea's college sweetheart had been given Four-Years in jail for carrying a knife on his person and her mother strongly disapproved of her daughter being with such a dangerous man, no matter how much he may have worshipped the ground she walked on.

The woman had rabbited on and on about her grandchildren, Lucy and Charlie who were twin girls and only just starting school – David's children, and the newborn Alex who was Chelsea's son, while showing her around the little flat.

It was very nice, only one bedroom which was good, clean, warm, well lit, the carpets were a rich chocolate shade of brown, the walls a crème colour with a few landscape paintings hung up, a bathroom with a shower – no bathtub but that was alright – a small bedroom with a double bed, wardrobe and desk made out of nice pine wood already in there, a living room that wasn't much bigger, just large enough for a table and a sofa with a fair bit of floor space, the kitchen was clean and bright and had a fairly large window right in front of the sink, a gas oven, plenty of cupboards, a small fridge with a little box for frozen goods at the top, a washing machine, a microwave and a kettle, there were a few pieces of cutlery and plates left behind by the previous tenants but in all the little flat was wonderful.

She couldn't wait to get all the paperwork arranged, sorted and signed. She would be meeting with Rosie on Friday next week to sign off on it all, pay the deposit and lay down the first month of rent – because she wanted to move in A.S.A.P., the Guest House was lovely, it was, but it seemed that when people were on holiday they tended to lose all control of their bodily functions, which left for absolutely horrifically disgusting bedsheets and bathrooms to clean, not to mention there was always ONE guy or girl, who threw a paddy over the food, whether it be too cold, or there be an imaginary hair in there or its not what they wanted – despite the fact that it is a Self Service Buffet where they got what they wanted. No, she wanted out of there as soon as possible, if another person pinched her backside she was going to _Glass_ them(1).

"Afternoon, Haze." A girl called from the far side of the entrance hall, her hair pulled back into a smart ponytail, Amy Richards the receptionist. When she'd first arrived, looking like a lost lamb in the door, dirty and tired, floundering slightly about whether or not to go in, the pretty dark haired girl had ushered her inside and sat her down, Amy had practically taken her under her wing from the word go, she had been the one to talk the Manager to get her the deal regarding work and reduced rates.

She smiled, "Hey Amy. Alright?" She asked, slipping behind the counter to pick up her room key as they weren't allowed outside with them just in case they got lost.

"Bored more than anything. How did it go with the Landlord?" She asked.

"Lady. It went well actually. I'm heading back next Friday to sign the Lease and put my deposit in. Maybe the first month of rent as well depending on how quickly I want to get into that place." She explained signing herself back in.

Amy laughed and nudged her in the side, "You'll want to get in there sooner rather than later Honeypot." She told the younger girl, "Cookie saw a cockroach in the kitchens so Katie's decided to fumigate the whole house, rats, insects, anything and everything living in here that shouldn't be is going to get gassed."

"Euuurgh! Roaches? How in the heck did they get in here?"

"Dunno. But not so loud, we don't want the customers to know just yet." The brown haired girl chastised, frowning at the 16-year-old who subsided sheepishly and rubbed the back of her head. Amy sighed and stuck her tongue out in disgust, "We think it was next door. They've left their bins out the back for way too long, must've been what attracted them and the kitchen has the window open most of the time to keep it from smelling too much like Cookie's Saturday night special."

The 16-year-old nodded, the whole street knew when Cookie was doing Saturday Night Special, it was rather pungent and it wasn't a Saturday only dish, he cooked it whenever he wanted. No one had quite gotten up the guts to ask him WHAT it actually was, it tasted good and they didn't want to ruin their appetites with the knowledge of what went in there.

"Go and get changed Sweetie, the Hissocks just checked out an hour or so ago and we've got another family of three coming in at roughly about five." Amy told her, giving the younger girl a gentle push towards the stairs. Chuckling the two girls parted ways, the younger of the two continuing to the top floor and the farthest room in the corridor, her room was the smallest in the building with a boxy bathroom, but she didn't need it to be big, just to sleep in, get changed and get washed in.

Letting herself in, the girl kicked the door shut behind her and began to strip off, leaving her clothing in a pile on the floor as she went and grabbed her usual 'uniform', a pair of black trousers and a black shirt with a white apron with pockets on the front and a pair of rubber gloves stuffed into the front pocket. Now to just pull her hair back.

Hazel Jasmine Black, formerly known as Harry James Potter, eyed herself in the bathroom mirror with a look of vague surprise, despite the fact she saw her new face several times a day, it was still something of a novelty and a shock to see a stranger looking back at her from the reflective surface. At least she was a vaguely pretty stranger. When she'd first made the change, she'd looked like someone's younger brother desperately hoping for puberty to kick in, a week later and the use of a hair lengthening Potion, a knife and a Magical Ear Piercing kit, she actually ended up looking a little presentable as a woman. Amy had only made that better with the application of a haircut and a little crash course on complimentary colours and clothes, Hazel had been completely lost from the word go but the older woman was patient and seemed to understand that the younger girl hadn't exactly had the kind of life where she could worry about colours and haircare and make up and boys.

Harry sighed and pulled her hair back into a no-nonsense ponytail before leaving the room and locking it behind her, she could think while she cleaned. Though she knew she probably shouldn't, her mind would _always_ wander back to the events that led her to where she was now.

After his final Resolve at the end of the year, he'd gone through the remainder of school as best he could while fighting back nerves and guilt and the depression and anger he felt over Sirius's death and the sheer _unfairness_ of having to be the one to deal with the mess the Wizarding world made. To be the one who had to die for them and their arrogance, would anything change when he got rid of Voldemort? Unlikely, a new Dark Lord would be following in his footsteps within the century and who will they call on to clean up the mess again? Their saviour. No wonder Dumbledore was trying to push this onto him. He'd already dealt with a Dark Lord, he didn't want to deal with another one, oh no, he'd paid his debt to society _of course._ Gods Harry wanted to punch him out then.

In the end, he'd decided to stay in England rather than skip off overseas, mainly because that was what everyone would expect him to do. Run to somewhere far away overseas to escape the war, preferably to an English speaking country with a large population, America, Canada, Australia or some places in Europe. So he'd done the opposite, he was going to hide right under their noses in Muggle Britain, the last place they would be looking for him. Harry had decided to settle on the South coast, at a major city called Southampton, it was a nice place from what he could see in the picture guides and it had a large number of people moving in and out of the country at all times, a huge cultural diversity. Almost as much as London to be honest.

It was a large enough city with several 'districts' split by The Avenue that ran between Thornhill-Swathling-West End and Shirley-Nursling. The Magical Population was very small, about two families not counting himself and they lived in other parts of the City compared to him, one family in Bassett and the other down in the Warren, meaning that there was very little chance of his running into them. Neither of them were Pureblood either so he should be safe from anyone recognising him as a child of Lily and James.

The train ride back went Business as usual, though the attempted attack via Draco, Goyle and Crabbe would be a very treasured memory, perhaps enough to fuel a Patronus. It was difficult sitting there with Hermione and Ron listening to them bicker and occasionally just sit with one another in companionable silence, he was going to miss them when he left. But it needed to be done.

During his first night at the Dursleys' residence, he had double checked that everything was packed appropriately, stolen one of Dudley's old backpacks and stuck his belongings into it, shrinking his Trunk with the use of Regulus's wand. After that, he'd waited until Dung was on watch again, it had taken some time but eventually the useless lump had fallen asleep again, cradling a bottle of Firewhisky like a newborn baby, Harry had taken his chance then. Leaving the Marauder's Map on his bed along with his Firebolt, he released Hedwig into the night and told her to go and stay with Remus and that he was sorry he couldn't take her on this adventure, after that, he left for good. A quick trip to Petunia's purse meant he had enough money to get the train into London where he promptly went to Gringotts and _drained_ the Potter Vaults, all of them, Trust fund and Family Vault, along with the Black Vaults which he discovered he now retained ownership of. Spiriting all the Galleons into a Moke-Skin bottomless bag Harry fled Gringotts because guaranteed the Goblins weren't going to be happy with him for closing their biggest accounts and there was a high chance they would contact Dumbledore to reign him him and get their money back – thankfully their hatred of Dumbledore far outweighed their anger at him, so the old coot remained unnotified. He had plans for the Galleons but not right now.

First he had a Potions Dealer in Knockturn Alley to see.

Knockturn Alley may not have been the most pleasant of places but it was the most useful that Harry had discovered thus far, during his fifth year he made numerous trips out of Grimmauld Place under illusions and cloaks and even Hermione's muggle make-up to hide himself and wondered through the Alleys, Diagon, Vertic, Knockturn and Beautific, looking for things to help him. Oh boy did he find them.

He'd found himself in the Potions Black Market down Knockturn Alley and promptly looked for the greasiest person there – a difficult task considering how most Potions' Masters were greasy as hell from the potion fumes, but he found someone who not only had good quality robes and potions but damn greasy hair and sallow yellow skin and bloodshot eyes that were sharp like a crow's. It was him, a man who preferred to be called Monkey, that Harry hired to brew him a number of potions, they would take almost a year to brew because of how hellishly difficult they were, but luckily, they could be stored for up to eight years after their brewing if done correctly, not knowing how long he would need to come to the decision to actually leave, he'd paid extra to have them stored until he could come and collect them. A quick message sent out via a generic post owl and half an hour later Monkey had met him outside the bookshop at the bottom of the Alley, next to the Vampire's bar '_Bloody Mary_', a simple exchange of money and bag took place, a respectful nod and the two had parted ways without a second glance, an exchanging of names nor even Monkey seeing his real face or hearing his real voice. All the potions Harry had requested were highly illegal, if he'd been caught with them it was a Life sentence in Azkaban, no questions.

In Beautific Alley he got another few potions, a few other cosmetic and hygiene things and a special needle set for piercings and tattoos. In Diagon he got a few things from a number of junk shops and Flourish and Blotts. He couldn't find anything useful in Vertic but some of the people he spoke to were _incredibly_ helpful, specifically, a man who specialised in Forgery, Magical and Muggle, he was a master of his craft and didn't charge overly much either.

After leaving Monkey, he got in contact with David the Forger – likely a fake name – who quickly drew up the files he'd requested last year, all that remained was filling in the names of his 'Parents' and his new identity. He'd already decided on his new birthday, April 10th, the same date as Piers Polkis – which for some reason was the only date that leapt to mind, he didn't much care though – all that remained was his name and his parents. A look at his borrowed wand made the decision for him.

His father's name would be Regulus Black, the deceased younger brother of Sirius Black, and his mother's name was going to be Lillian Polkis, just to borrow from his old classmate and tormentor, they died, tragically, in a drunk driving accident November 1st 1991 on an icy road in Edinburgh. Selecting a name was a bit difficult but he'd chosen one similar to his own, at least sharing the same letters H.J but opting instead to have Black as his last name instead of Polkis – just thinking about sharing that name with Piers made him break out in a cold sweat. He got a Birth Certificate, a National Insurance number, a passport, fake GCSE certificates claiming that he'd passed English, Maths, Science, Art, Drama and Physical Education with C's and two A's in Art and Drama.

Hiding out in a Hotel, Harry had started to go through the process of erasing the Boy Who Lived.

Taking both wands, his Invisibility Cloak and all the potions into the little bathroom, Harry sat down on the edge of the tub and unscrewed the tub of Potion wax.

It was something he'd run across while researching Accidental Magic Trace, how the Ministry always seemed to know when someone performed a spell around muggles, and why it only seemed to work on Harry when he least wanted it to. It was the wards around Number 4, the Blood Wards saturated the air with so much magic that the Ministry couldn't get a Trace on him while he was within the house, it was why his Accidental Magic bout on Aunt Marge wasn't detected until she was floating half a mile away and the Obliviators had a right task ahead of them. They'd been able to catch his Patronus charm in fifth year because he hadn't been in the house at the time, and the Hovering Charm that Dobby had used could be explained away with House Elf magic being so different to the ambient Magic around the House that it set off the Trace Charms. So when he used Regulus's wand it didn't register, when Tonks used her wand, it didn't register, no magic could be found via Trace in Number 4 unless it was inhuman.

Anyway, he'd spent a good half an hour using the Wax potion on both wands and on his cloak, the potion was designed to remove all Tracking and Monitoring Charms, anything that could be used to find him. Dumbledore had been in possession of the Cloak for a long time, Harry didn't know what he may have done to it so he wasn't taking any chances, add to that, he always seemed to know where Harry was when he wore it and he didn't have Moody's Magical eye last Harry checked. He did the same on his own Wand for much the same reasons, he'd been unconscious so often that someone could have dropped a charm on it without his knowing. As for Regulus's wand, that was just paranoia talking, why would he have left it behind if he _KNEW_ Voldemort was chasing him? Harry didn't want to bring the Dark Lord down on his head anymore than he wanted Dumbledore to track him down. With the three objects thoroughly coated in the wax, Harry ran a bath, making sure it was _icy_ cold before taking the second Potion, this one was liquid and tasted kind of a little like mouldy cottage pie smelled, he swallowed a fifth of the phial as directed before pouring the rest into the Tub. Making sure the Potion had suffused into the entire tub of water, he stripped naked and took both wands and cloak before climbing into the water and completely immersing himself. Shuddering painfully against the cold he only surfaced occasionally to get another gulp of air before ducking back under. He needed to stay under the potion water for about five minutes to guarantee the removal of all tracking and monitoring Charms and then let cloak, wands and himself dry without the use of magic or a towel to smear or remove the potion on his skin.

Three hours later, Harry was ready for the next step in his master plan.

The Third Potion was a violently red and violet thing that swirled hypnotically within its phial, this one would hurt the most out of all the potions he had to take but Harry was up to the task. It wouldn't hurt as much as the Cruciatus Curse. Sitting on the bed, Harry took the Phial and swallowed it whole, feeling ice spread through his veins a split second before pain bubbled up from his stomach like a rabid animal. Gritting his teeth and breaking out into a cold sweat, Harry writhed on his bed, whimpering and hissing under his breath as the potion twisted and changed his magic.

This Potion was known as the Scorpion's Melanin, Scorpion venom was a key ingredient while Melanin was the chemical within the human body that dictated eye, skin and hair colour, it was named after those two things because of what it did. It altered his Magical Signature.

This meant that Owls, House Elves, Tracking Spells, Identification Spells, even Fawkes, wouldn't be able to find him, wouldn't be able to lock onto _his_ unique magical presence because it was no longer there. It didn't exist anymore. This was just one of the reasons why this potion was so damn illegal, not to mention how several rare and protected creatures were used in its creation. But Harry was desperate, he soothed his inner guilt by promising to donate to the Golden Snidget Sanctuary as soon as possible. He didn't try to sooth the guilt he felt over Hedwig, she probably would have sensed it immediately when his magic changed, she liked to keep her eye on him and the idea that she may think he betrayed her, hurt more than he thought it would. But it needed to be done. It needed to be done...

When the last of the pain shivered out of his body, Harry just lay there panting, trembling in the aftershocks, feeling the difference immediately in the way his magic swirled through him, it would take some getting used to but he actually kind of liked the feeling. He knew what was happening, he could _feel_ his magic, a feeling that he'd gotten so used to growing up that he subconsciously ignored the familiar warm patterns throughout his body. He preferred this.

It was in the early AMs but there was just one more potion to take. The most important one yet for Harry.

The Rosafio Muto Potion, a Ministry B-Graded Dark Potion. Loosely translated from the original Latin, it meant To Change and Become a Rose, by those words, one could gather that it meant to change someone into a woman – a Rose.

Harry was _determined_ to escape the _Boy Who Lived_.

With Harry Potter missing, everyone would be looking for a Boy with a lightning bolt shaped scar in a foreign Country trying to continue his magical education and possibly spending a whole load of cash as word would reach Dumbledore that the Potter and Black accounts had been closed. Heck, he might even find a way to hide or get rid of his scar so they had to be EXTRA vigilant to try and find him. They wouldn't be looking at a young woman in Muggle Britain who had never been to Magic School and wasn't looking to attend one, they wouldn't be looking at the unfortunate scar at the side of her forehead from the car crash that had claimed her beloved parents because it wouldn't look like a Lightning Bolt. The fact that the Lightning Bolt would be hidden amidst a knot of other scars on that side of her forehead and running through her eyebrow would just be rather unfortunate. And very painful for when Harry took a knife to his head to make them, a botched Healing potion borrowed from Neville's Cauldron would make it scar and look much older than a fresh etching.

To take the Rosafio Muto Potion, he had a quick shower to wash away the remains of the Anti-Tracking potions before filling the bath again, hot water this time, drinking another fifth of the potion he poured the remains into the liquid and climbed in. This potion didn't require immersion but he did have to wash thoroughly, everywhere, his nose, eyes, mouth, bellybutton, between the toes, everywhere, even in his ears. Then, at 6 O'clock in the morning, he finally went to bed and fell asleep almost instantly.

He slept until 2pm at which point he woke up in vague pain.

When he'd looked down, it took a monumental effort of self control not to scream hysterically and run out of the door.

He knew when he woke up he would essentially be a woman, he just hadn't expected himself to be covered in blood seeping from between his legs.

Apparently the text book forgot to mention that the change in his internal organs and hormones would cause him to bleed out as the blood and flesh where his new womb had been hollowed out was flushed away. The sheets were soaked with blood and there were strips of skin and flesh plastering his inner thighs. _Her_ inner thighs.

That had been three months ago.

Hazel sighed as she finished turning down the beds, fresh sheets always smelled the nicest to her nose, and opened the windows to get some air into the room. It cost roughly £20 for a bed here, she'd managed to shift that to £30 a week as long as she worked hard and did the cleaning and helped Cookie in the kitchens, she _could_ have paid the full price but that would be the question of where a 16-year-old got that kind of cash.

Speaking of which.

Sorting out her money had been a miniature nightmare, she'd spent almost a month in Switzerland trying to get it sorted, but in the end it had been worth it, everyone was happy with the final arrangement. She'd set herself up as the heiress of the Black fortune by providing her papers along with Regulus Black's to prove the connection, it would explain how she came into such a huge amount of money in raw gold. It had taken a long time and a lot of fast talking to a number of people before she'd been able to come to a working agreement. Every month, £500's worth of Galleons would be taken from her account, melted down into Bullion and then £300's worth of that would be transferred into British Pounds and return to her account while the remaining £200's worth would be distributed to the people working for her. This would provide her with a steady income until she could get herself completely sorted in the Muggle world, it would keep the muggle law off her back because the payments into her account would be done under a Trust Fund label, it would also keep the Economy from being overly disturbed by the sudden influx of gold and deduction of monetary assets. Despite the loss of the £200 every month, she was still looking at an overall _increase_ of her wealth with the Galleon to Bullion to Pound to Galleon exchange rate, it was a bare 3 percent but it was still an increase. It would just take over the next 300-years to get that far.

It was a good thing she'd gotten that sorted first thing because when she'd gotten back to the country the first thing she'd done was register with a Muggle Bank to accept the money transfer which had been a nightmare in its own right, she didn't understand half the things they asked her but managed to stumble along on her own with a few gentle explanations from the nice woman helping her set the account up. She'd received a cheque book, a debit card and they'd _offered_ a Credit Card but they seemed really complicated and she remembered Uncle Vernon complaining bitterly about Credit Card debts and politely declined, she wanted to keep things as uncomplicated as possible so as not to trip up and make a major mistake.

After that things had gone well for the most part, she's only had to sleep rough for about two days before managing to get into Brimar House, Amy had taken her under her wing and even introduced her to her friends, they were all older than Hazel but seemed to have adopted her as Amy's kid-sister. They treated her very well and fairly soon figured out that she didn't quite know how to be a girl, when questioned, she spun a story about how her parents died in a car crash so she went to live with her aunt and uncle, only they treated her poorly, she was allowed to go to school but after Junior school was finished she was forced to remain at home and learn in her own time while working as their slave. It managed to explain her lack of knowledge on certain pop-culture and her spotty muggle education.

Thankfully when they got the full story, the girls were wonderful, Lauren got her caught up on music and celebrity gossip and films and the like, she'd even instigated a film night of her favourite films: Pirates of the Caribbean and Twilight (This had popcorn thrown at her by everyone and at the end of the film Hazel sat in a kind of detached horror that some idiot muggle woman actually thought Vampires were like that. Yes they were incredible predators but they genuinely boiled alive and vaporised when exposed to UV light, even on overcast days. And they most certainly didn't look like a 3-year-old had taken entirely took much glitter glue to their bare skin to try and recreate granddad's disco ball.) Amy, to his horror and relief, helped him with a few of those feminine things that had been beyond him before and even got her a book known as '_Deal with It: a hot new approach to your body, brain and life as a GURL_' it was hot pink and had _everything_ in there from pubic hair, breast size, periods and masturbation to depression, mood swings, relationship advice and difficulties fitting in at school. Just reading that had answered more of Harry's questions than he even knew he had, it had also completely disgusted and horrified her on some level that still thought like a bloke – that part would get smaller and smaller until the portion of the Rosafio Muto potion that he drank did its job and finished messing with his brain. Alexis began to teach her self defence, she'd gotten a look at some of the marks on Hazel's arms and the back of her hand and then promptly declared she was going to teach her how to throw a punch and not break any fingers in the process. One of the few guys in the group offered to teach her how to budget her money properly, Joe was a quiet guy who'd been kicked out of home for being gay in a family that was strictly religious, he was a sweet guy who actually wanted to be an accountant – he was currently seeing one of the other boys in the Group, Neil, who had also been thrown out for being gay, but for different reasons, his dad just didn't like homosexuals. They too were looking for a flat together but it was difficult when some of the sellers were obviously uncomfortable with trying to sell a one bedroomed flat to two men (Add to that, it was illegal to refuse to help them based on sexual preference.).

It was sad yes, but worse things happened to homosexuals in the Wizarding world than just getting kicked out, he remembered Hermione and Ron having a blazing row over it, it was one of the reasons why he'd never told Ron that he was into both sexes. Apparently because of the whole Pureblood Mania about having heirs, homosexuality was considered a plague and anyone with it was treated horrifically, sometimes they were beaten, other times exiled, some of the more tolerant Light Families just out and out killed their homosexual children, the Dark Families... Well, the Light family solution was merciful compared to what the Dark Families tended to do. It was worse than having a Squib in one's social standings. It was one of the reasons why the Rosafio Muto Potion was considered forbidden, in the days before the Founders, Pureblood families in feuds would often sneak the potion into the food of the opposing Family's Heir, this would alter their brain chemistry, essentially making them female in mind due to the need to immerse oneself in the diluted portion of the potion to change the body. This often resulted in the Heir viewing another man in _That_ light and caused shame to his family, resulting in his death and the end of a Pureblood line.

It was nice being normal, no life threatening attacks, no one trying to kill him – though he could have sworn Lauren was trying to kill all of them when she decided to take her shopping. Apparently Dudley's old cast-offs weren't suitable for a young lady. They'd been horrified when they realised that she only wore boy's underwear, that she didn't even own a bra, thus began the most awkward and embarrassing day of Harry's young life, she learned more about women's underwear and ruffles and lace and _silk_ in that mortifying afternoon in Marks and Spencers than the past almost six years in the boys dormitory at Hogwarts. And believe him when he said, they talked about and theorised about lacy bras and panties and silk underwear and thongs verses pants a lot when Seamus brought it up (Amy point blank refused to allow any of them to get underwear from Primark, no matter how cheap it was, she would say that your underwear was the next thing down from your Sunday best because whenever anyone saw it it was a special occasion. Add to that Primark Bras were uncomfortable as hell and the underwear always ripped if you treated it as anything less than a holy object.).

Thus Hazel had ended up with a small, but respectable, collection of clothing in her size and proper underwear – Harry hadn't thought there was much difference in wearing panties to boxers as a girl, he had been _wrong._

Now that she had somewhere to live, she just needed to find a job, Katie, the Manager, had already told her that they couldn't afford to keep her on as a member of staff when she got her own place so she'd have to find a job elsewhere, but she had been perfectly happy to offer a reference should she need it for another job in future. Amy was even going to show her how to write a proper CV on her laptop – Hazel's skill with computers was noted to be exceptionally poor to the point where most Laptops and computers tended to actually crash the more frustrated she got with them, no one had figured out why but they all teased the red faced embarrassed girl about terrifying them into shutting down, not quite realising that it was her magic discharging and causing it to turn off by accident. She could barely get a phone to work so Amy was going to be kind and walk her through a lot of technical things like phones and ATM machines and the like.

Nodding politely to some guests, she wheeled the cleaning cart back to its cupboard and gathered up the dirty sheets from their plastic bag and carried them downstairs to the washer-room.

Now all she needed to do was find a place that was suitably private and uninhabited to practice her magic.

When Dobby told him about the Room of Requirements, Harry had been really interested in just what rooms it could call up, was it _anything_ he required or was it what he mentally requested? When he'd experimented with it later, he'd discovered the Lost and Found room where he appropriated most of his at the moment belongings. When he'd discovered that it was possible to take things out of the room he imagined a library and attempted to take as many books as possible out with him, only for them to vanish the minute he stopped outside the room. He was going to give up when he remembered seeing a Seventh Year Slytherin transfiguring a handful of pebbles into a blank book and then _copying_ one of the Restricted Section Books into the blank one. It had taken him two hours almost every night of the remaining Year to copy all the books he wanted to look at, books on Illusions, Ancient Magick that stopped Voldemort the _last_ time, Charms, Defence, Transfiguration, Animagus forms, Blood Magic – he wasn't sure that the Blood Wards on number 4 even existed, but apparently they did but they were insanely weak because Petunia only took him in out of duty and self preservation instead of desire to protect him – magical Law, Warding, the elements, Rituals, Dark Magic – he wanted to know what he would be facing – he even found the personal journals of a few Spell Crafters working on entirely new and different branches of Magic that they'd never been able to get into the mainstream Magical Community. Weather Magic, Voice/Music Magic, a new ways of using Runes, so many people had had so many ideas about different branches of magic but they were ignored because of their half-blood or muggleborn status. But you can bet your ass Harry wasn't going to ignore those journals.

She was working on the Theory of the Animagus transformations, she wanted to get that one out of the way first because she wanted her Marauder name already, Occlumency was also high on her list of THINGS TO DO. She needed it to prevent Mouldy Shorts from getting into her mind and finding out where she was, sadly though she had no points of reference for Occlumency beyond what Snape had sneered at her during their 'lessons' and what little imagination and information she could get from the books. So far, she was coming up empty and didn't have the foggiest idea of how to clear her mind beyond staring at a wall in silence for five hours.

Somehow she didn't think it would help much when Voldemort came knocking on her skull.

-

**Glass: That's what I love about England. We turned a Noun into a verb. Basically, to glass someone is to attack them with a glass object, be it a broken bottle or glass. Quite nasty and a common threat between me and my friends when we're having a laugh.**

**Note: all locations here exist and the people may not but some of their characteristics are taken from people I've known in my life.**

**This story is just for the lols, it will be updated as and when I write the chapters so there is a chance that while this story will update often, the others will be sticking to their one chapter a month update because of time constraints on my behalf and the desire to make sure you always get a chapter – meaning I'll have three chapters waiting before posting just to make certain you do get something.**


	3. Chapter 2

**DISTANCE**

**-**

**Chapter 3**

**-**

**HAPPY BIRTHDAY **

**STALKER OF STORIES**

-

Being unemployed during a recession _SUCKED!!_

Hazel sighed in frustration as she crossed off another circled job advertisement in the newspaper, her red felt tip leaving a juicy red streak through the neatly printed black ink, making it smear and causing red to seep through the paper and stain the other side. The young woman leaned back in her seat and reached for her cup of tea, she was in the City Centre, sat in a nice little coffee shop near to one of the many parks.

She had been looking for another job for a good three months now, she hadn't thought that finding a job would be so difficult, sure she had heard about all the people on unemployment benefit and being unable to find jobs but she had always assumed that they simply weren't looking hard enough or they had spent so much time doing nothing at school that they just didn't have the qualifications to get a job. Now the shoe was on the other foot and she was in their position, she could honestly say that in most cases, it _wasn't their fault_. Finding a job when, A- you couldn't drive, B- you had no experience, C- you were of a certain age, and lastly D- high grade GCSE qualifications in Art and Drama and low grades in English and Maths.

She was getting to the point where she was mockingly considering Prostitution. Alexis would always joke about being her first customer and then wiggle her fingers as if threatening to grope her in public again. Odd girl but a good friend.

Amy had introduced her to a few new friends and she ended up hitting it off very well with one of the younger girls, a Russian 17-year-old called Anka Tokmakoff who was studying Law at Southampton University up in Highfield. She was a quirky girl who was completely obsessed with anything Japanese, Chinese, Korean or Thai, absolutely batty for them, kind of like Hermione for books, or Mrs Figg for cats, or even Dumbledore for Lemon Drops and Secrets. She was also attempting to be the first person to learn over 100 languages and be fluent in all of them, Hazel wished her luck and stood on stand-by with '_grandma's-herbal-headache-cure_' also known as a heavily diluted Headache Potion.

"Everything alright miss?" A voice asked, making the teenager look up from her brooding glare at the newspaper, she was trying to set it on fire with her eyes but the only thing that happened was that little damp spot getting bigger. It was one of the waitresses, pretty older woman with blonde hair and brown eyes, wore a black top and trousers with sandals and a white apron around her waist.

"Not particularly." Hazel muttered, glowering mutinously at the newspaper.

Obviously misreading what the problem was and taking the glare to be directed at the tea instead of the paper the blonde girl continued, "Is there anything I can do to help?"

Hazel glanced at her, "Unless you have a job hidden somewhere in that apron that I can have, I don't think so." She told the other girl flatly, and a little rudely as well, she grimaced and apologised before the other girl could get upset. "Sorry, it's been a long few months, no one seems to be taking you on without experience and my Landlady's getting a little narky."

The girl nodded and glanced over her shoulder before slipping into the seat opposite, having deemed it safe to take a little break, "I know what you mean. Took me eight months to land this job." She admitted with an understanding smile, "I'm Becky, you?"

"Hazel, nice to meet you."

"You too. What kind of jobs are you looking for anyway?" She asked, craning her head at the newspaper.

"Anything that pays, isn't commission based, full time and doesn't require experience or knowledge of computers. Me and computers don't play nice." She admitted with a grimace, it was a wonder her mobile worked half the time. Alexis took her out the first week of her moving into the flat and got her a phone so they could stay in touch; it was a black Samsung phone that slid up instead of flipped up. She kept forgetting to charge it so sometimes it would sit in her pocket without power for a good day or three until someone showed up on her doorstep, smacked her upside the head, hooked it up to charge, ate all her food and watched a film with her before leaving. She was getting better at it though. It was kind of like having a pet that needed to be fed through a tube every two days.

The girl nodded, "You should try waitressing, its not for everyone and it's a lot harder than people think but it pays and its easy to find jobs in. Joe Daflo's on Commercial road is always looking for Waiting and Bar staff, I wouldn't recommend it for first time waitresses though, the training is pretty bad and they throw you in at the deep end." She explained with a grimace.

"Personal experience?" the Witch asked.

Becky nodded, "Oh yeah. One month as Waiting staff, worst month of my life. I swore I'd never be a waitress again but I needed money badly and this job came along. I couldn't afford to be picky anymore." She admitted with a sheepish smile.

Hazel nodded, she knew what that was like, she was getting there right now.

"Thanks, I'll look into it." She agreed, a little happier now that she had a vague idea of something she could do.

Get paid to bring people their food and find out what they wanted, it looked as though all that Training in the Dursley Penitentiary was going to come in handy after all.

-

The Magical World was in an uproar.

Harry Potter, the Chosen One, had vanished without a trace seven months ago.

The Potter and Black Vaults had been emptied of every last Knut, the muggles he lived with knew nothing, his friends were clueless, the Order was frantic and the Ministry hadn't seen a moment of silence with all the Howlers running from office to office. Worst hit were the Minister's office and the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, the new Minister had already attained several new grey hairs and expanded his vocabulary of cuss words exponentially and now refused to open his mail, instead summoning only the letters without harmful spells, charms or potions and banished the rest. The Auror Department ended up having to ask several House-elves to help them sort through the mail, complaints and howlers were disposed of, possible leads and important documentation was kept and sorted through via the Desk Jockies of the department.

And in the middle of it all, only two men had even the vaguest of ideas about what had happened.

Severus Snape, who had gained an inkling of Potter's plans as he dug through his mind during their '_remedial potions class_' only to find those ideas and plans vanishing like smoke in the wind, slipping through his fingers and into darker recesses of Potter's mind, had a very vague idea of what was going on. He hadn't said anything because he wasn't one-hundred percent certain and it showed an almost _Slytherin_ level of self preservation instinct in the boy that Severus had never seen before. He was curious about where it would go if he allowed the boy a free reign. He never expected him to vanish so completely that Dumbledore's damnable Phoenix wouldn't be able to find him. That, if anything, kept his mouth shut. He could respect a plan so well thought out that it took the damnable brat that far out of the game, he must have been planning it for a long time, which meant he had been careful enough to hide any and all dissatisfaction with the Magical World from those around him. How very Slytherin, even Dumbledore hadn't noticed.

And Monkey, Monkey who sold that mysterious stranger those Potions.

He chuckled and kicked back in his chair, Firewhiskey raised to the ceiling, toasting the cunning son of a bitch who managed to vanish that completely.

If it was Potter, then good luck to him. Getting one's self out of dodge when every piss-streak politician on a powertrip was trying to get a leash around his neck was one of the smartest things he'd seen anyone in the Magical world do.

And being a Squib he knew the differences between the Magical world and the muggle world.

He only sold potions to support his pregnant girlfriend. His other job as a Bouncer paid well enough for just he himself, but the cash from those potions could get him a new place big enough for him and Marie and their new baby.

He knocked back the glass of alcohol and laughed.

-

Becky was right, Waitressing was a bitch.

But it was money so Hazel wasn't going to quit any time soon.

She stubbornly plastered another smile as she carried a tray of Magners upstairs to table five, deftly shifting out of the way of overly affectionate hands and red-faced flirts. It was ten-thirty at night, she was tired and wanted to go home but she _couldn't_ because these guys wouldn't stop ordering drinks! The Restaurant kitchen closed at nine so all these people had been doing for the past hour and a half was drinking and getting more and more rowdy.

She made her way back to the Waiting station beside the KP-room, setting the tray down on the stack she checked over everything.

All the cutlery clean and polished – check.

Condiments all refilled, covered in cling film and put into the fridge – check.

Enough napkins – check.

Pens and notebooks – check.

Trays – too many, she'd have to take a few downstairs when she closed up.

Cash – she had it, now to count it.

Opening up the pencil case and grabbing one of the notebooks, she added up all the credit/debit-card receipts, then she moved onto the petty cash, adding it all up and checking it against the receipts she printed off for each table. The other waitresses called her Paranoid but when it came to money Joe had been very specific, you make certain that everything breaks even, that way things don't go tits-up and you get to keep your job without feeling like an idiot.

As Kirsty learned the hard way. Silly girl put the drinks for a Graduation Party on a separate table, didn't tell anyone, so when Carolina cashed off that table and gave them the bill, it was minus all the drinks. Drinks that cost a good £86.30 all together, champagne was _expensive_.

So far everything had broken even.

Hazel smiled and set everything aside and then went about counting up the tips she had accrued for the day. Joe's had an interesting system in that when you got tipped, you didn't keep it. Everything got put in a pot at the end of the night and at the end of the week they were divided up between all the staff save the Managers. Waiting staff got 60-percent, kitchen staff fifteen-percent, Bar-staff twenty-percent and cleaning staff ended up with just five percent. But it was better than nothing and this way everyone got a little extra cash that couldn't be taxed – credit/debit card tips got taxed, the cash ones didn't.

With everything sorted, her customers gladly chattering away and sucking down alcohol like oxygen, she allowed herself to lean back, dig out her book and read it while occasionally glancing up to make sure they weren't getting too out of hand.

The book was utterly fascinating.

Illusions and how to cast them with just eye contact, kind of like a passive Legilimency attack but it played on the magic that worked the senses, making you see, hear, feel and smell things that weren't there instead of reading his or her thoughts. She was utterly enthralled by the whole process and really wanted to give it a try, but at the same time, she was a bit frightened of using any new Magic just in case the Ministry caught it and she ended up being discovered.

She really, _really_ needed to find a place to practice her magic without discovery.

A few house-hold charms and Transfigurations in and around the flat weren't so bad, little things, she made sure all the electricals were off at the time though so nothing got short-circuited – especially her laptop, she and that little pain in the backside reached a kind of compromise, she used it for simple things like listening to music on Youtube, exploring Wikipedia, chatting to people on Windows Live and occasionally watching BBC i-Tunes. That later expanded a little to include the Server that Alexis's brother had set up called Cake, it had music, cartoons, TV shows and such saved on it so she was never without anything to watch. (Black Books was hilarious and it made her want to be a smoking alcoholic, or own a bookshop, either one.) And in return, the laptop only went psychotic and shut down twice a day.

A beautiful working relationship.

Not.

She regularly wanted to punt the damn thing out of the window.

-

Nikolai Ivanov was very used to getting what he wanted.

Being the only son of a successful Russian Business man be grew up with the proverbial silver spoon in his mouth, wanting for nothing because he received it all before he could want it. Thus he grew up a selfish and spoilt child who was later tutored into a cold and ruthless businessman who swam through the upper echelons of society like a shark through a school of injured fish.

Currently, he was on a business trip to speak with a few associates in the Overseas Transportation Industry in England, a small city by the name of Southampton. Small and quaint with very little in the way of the grand history that he felt St Petersburg possessed but for the common man or woman who went about their days scrabbling across the tarmac he was sure it was practically a paradise.

Never the less, his father had encouraged him to sample the local colour and that was what he was endeavouring to do as of now.

A short word with his Personal Assistant and two hours later a stunningly beautiful blonde woman as knocking on his front door, her smile a touch too plastic, her make-up entirely overdone and her dress just a shade too tight to be decent. Still, it was good enough for now. They were only going to dinner and then to view a performance by the _English_ National Ballet – nothing special and certainly nothing to compare with the _Russian_ Ballet. Still, he was fairly certain it would be the first time in the life of this Prostitute that she saw anything of such beauty and grace as the Ballet.

He never even bothered to get her name, he didn't need it, they were only going to a meal and a showing together before he fucked the slut into the mattress until he was sated.

Ilya, his PA, had booked them a table for two at the restaurant across the road from the theatre where the performance was due to take place, a Bar and Restaurant in a remodelled church by the name of Joe Daflo's. It was one of a Restaurant Chain which made Nikolai sneer in disgust, poor food and even poorer service no doubt.

When they arrived at the restaurant, he eyed the old stone building without bothering to conceal his scorn as he got out and opened the door for the whore, closing and locking it behind him. Not even valet service, how plebeian.

The inside of the restaurant was clean and warmly lit, the bar was downstairs and everything was done in shades of yellow and dark wood, black leather sofas and barstools and black marble tables, behind the bar was a wine rack that stretched up to the very roof, the floor of the upstairs restaurant having been opened up so that the bar would be visible and the wine rack could reach the ceiling. Nikolai stood stiffly beside the greeting desk, waiting for someone to take notice of them, the place was packed and heaving with people dressed in suits and dresses for the show that evening.

Through the crowd, he caught a glimpse of a young woman – obviously a waitress – making her way over, she wore a black blouse, slacks, flat shoes and a black apron around her waist, the words _**Joe Daflo's**_ written up the side of the apron with a white tea-towel tucked into it at her side. She was a pretty young thing, not the stunning beauty of the whore beside him, but something softer and understated.

She wasn't tall, roughly about 5'4" in height with unusually pale skin, her features were soft and slightly pixie-ish, large exotically shaped eyes the colour of his favourite emerald ring peered out from long black eyelashes, her hair was dark, not entirely black but a kind of dark chocolate ebony colour with red high-lights, pulled back off her face and hanging to roughly about shoulder length. Her ears were unpierced, she wore no make-up or jewellery, there was an ugly scar at the side of her forehead, running through her eyebrow, and from what he could see now that she was much closer, she wasn't much on top either. Possibly a B-cup.

"Good evening," She had a pleasant voice, still young and slightly girlish but already maturing, she couldn't have been any older than sixteen. Judging from her bone structure, she would be quite the beauty when she finally grew into womanhood, "Welcome to Joe Daflo's Bar and Restaurant, do you have a reservation?" She asked, flashing the two of them a professional smile that only _just_ about reached her eyes.

"Yes, table for two under Ivanov." He informed the much younger girl who made a quick perusal of the register in front of her before smiling again, this time a noticeably warmer one.

"_Dobry vecher, Gaspadin Ivanov_." She greeted in Russian, her accent was poor but he found himself a little pleasantly surprised by the greeting in his mother tongue. "If you'll follow me upstairs we'll get you seated." She told them, smiling widely, showing straight white teeth as she collected two menus from the Waiting station in front of her and gestured for the pair to follow her up the polished brass and yellow staircase to the second level – Nikolai found it a little difficult to remove his eyes from the young girl's behind as she climbed the stairs in front of them. Moving to a table a bit further away from the stairs with a good view of the bar downstairs, between two potted plants, she set the menus down and stepped back, "There is a coat stand just over there if you would you like me to hang them up for you?" She offered, holding a hand out to where they could see the polished wooden stand against the wall not too far away from them – on the otherside of the potted plant closest to the wall.

The Prostitute seemed a little wary but never the less gave up her heavy coat for the younger girl to take, handling it with care she hung it up and brushed an invisible piece of lint from the dark fabric before facing Nikolai who grudgingly handed over his expensive jacket which was treated with just as much care as it was hung up.

When the two were seated she approached them again, "My name is Hazel and I'll be your waitress for this evening, now, can I get you any drinks while you're going through our menu? We have today's specials written on the boards here," She gestured behind Nikolai to where a chalkboard could be seen on the wall, "And there." And again on the far wall on the other side of the stairs. "I'll warn you now; we are sadly out of Goat's Cheese, Chorizo sausage and Chocolate-Pecan pie from the desert menu."

Nikolai nodded, "We'll have a bottle of the House Red and a jug of iced water." He told the girl, watching her write it down with a few strokes of her pen before smiling and making her way towards the service station on the otherside of the stairs to them, exchanging a few brief words with one of the Waiters as she began to key their Wine order.

A few moments later she returned with their jug of ice water before moving downstairs to collect the bottle of red, pouring himself some of the water he glanced to the whore as she ran her ankle up his calf mischievously.

It looked like tonight was going to be a test of restraint for Nikolai.

No matter, he had a Ballet to look forward to, a pretty young girl serving him and a beautiful woman he would be enjoying later that night. And they do say that all good things come to those who wait.

And he was very good at waiting.

-

"See'ya Haze."

"Later David." The dark haired girl called back to one of the Bar Staff as she stepped out of the little cloak room, heavy black woollen cloak wrapped around her, it was one of the few things she'd kept after carefully removing the Gryffindor patch on the breast. She loved her house but having that symbol would make her a target and give some kind of sign of her magical origins – unacceptable.

She'd been working at Joe's for two months now, it was hard in the beginning but she was used to the shifts and the ebb and flow of customers now, she knew the dishes, where the buttons were on the till, who to expect to complain and try to bum a free meal and who their regulars were and how to treat the occasional performer from across the road sneaking in for a quick drink or something to eat.

Ever since she'd spoken a little Russian phrase that Anka had taught her, Mr Ivanov had been showing up rather regularly at the bar, sometimes with a woman, most often without, and always a different one in various states of... well, she may have been more naïve about the world than most 16-year-olds but she knew a Prostitute when she saw one. And that made her very wary of the Russian man who would smile charmingly at her, his eyes never crinkling and his lips just a touch too thin for her to trust him, he reminded her too much of a young Tom Riddle. So she went about her job, only speaking when spoken to, offering him an occasional polite nod or smile when she caught his eye.

She paused, but only for a split second, when she saw him stood in the carpark, seemingly waiting for someone but she knew full well that he had come alone this time.

She pretended not to notice him as she went down the side stairs and towards the train station bus-stops, the Blue-Star 18 would be passing by soon, it was the last of the night and she wasn't missing it. She had no intention of walking home this late at night on her own, she wasn't _stupid_.

When she got back, she found Anka waiting at her front door her face red with tears.

Anka Tokmakoff was a pretty young woman, a year older, she was roughly the same height but much more stocky and thick, she wasn't chubby but she had bulk, her eyes were dark and small with long lashes and a pierced eyebrow, her hair was a chestnut brown and fell just past her shoulders, pulled back into a ponytail. She was usually cheerful and happy and you'd think she had a source of internal light because when she smiled, her whole face lit up and her eyes sparkled almost a honey amber shade in the light. But right now, she looked slightly grey and ill as she flung herself at the other girl, eyes red and puffy from crying.

Ten minutes later, five of them filled with tears and the other five with trying to get a hot drink down the distraught girl's throat, Hazel got the whole story.

Her boyfriend, Levka, who came with her from Russia to learn Law right along side of her, had been cheating on her with one of the other students, a Chinese girl by the name of Cho – which brought back bad memories and sent a momentary rush of cold fear through her stomach, before she remembered that Cho Chang would still be in Hogwarts – and had finally come clean about it and told her they were over. He'd kicked her out of their flat. She had till the end of the week to move her belongings out or he would sell them and she had no where to go, all her family were in Moscow and she couldn't put herself on them again, they were too poor.

Hazel didn't know what to do.

Her flat was too small for two people, if she let Anka stay with her she would need to tell the Landlady who might double her rent, she would also need to inform the Council who _would_ put her Council tax up and while she was pretty sure she could handle a bit of extra strain, what about all her magic books and the blatantly magical objects she had hidden behind illusions around the house?

In the end, Anka made the choice for her; she fell asleep on the couch.

And that was that, Hazel just couldn't turn her away.

Moving into her bedroom, she transfigured an old cloak – she had been unable to get the Gryffindor patch off and now there was a hole in the chest where she'd lost her temper and cut it out with a pair of scissors – into a comfortable blanket and took one of her pillows to make her friend comfortable.

Despite the fact it was close to midnight, the dark haired girl then puttered around her flat, silently gathering anything of a suspicious nature and hiding it within her room in out of sight places. She didn't bother with the books, she figured she could always tell her friend that she'd inherited them from her Crazy Uncle and thoroughly enjoyed the utter insanity one could read from within them, I mean really, magic existing? Who would believe something as silly as that?

That done...

She stripped out of her clothes, thanked every heathen god that came to mind that tomorrow was a day off, crawled into bed and fell asleep.

Tomorrow she would help Anka move in properly.

-

**Just a little scene setting. I hope you guys like it so far. Again, as I said before, Distance is an 'update as and when' story. I'll post chapters when they're finished so don't expect an update every month. I'll try to do one every month but things are looking to get hectic again.**

**I just found out my Granny had a stroke and is in hospital. **

**This is the woman that's married to my grandpa who has cancer. Those two just can't catch a break, if it isn't Granny in hospital because she's sick and can't keep anything down and just keeps getting thinner and thinner and thinner – and now with the stroke, its grandpa with his cancer. But I had an update earlier today, she's fine, tough as old boots my Granny is, she's been suffering some unknown stomach proble, can't keep anything down and hasn't been able to for years, and even this stroke hasn't beaten her. XDD Granny Shaw is a major tough old biddy. She's already been telling the nurses off for not letting her out of bed, she adamantly refuses to use the cathiter - the thing that means you can pee in bed and not get urine over everything.**

One thing about Scottish Grannies you need to learn: Ye dinnae tell 'em what te do, ye ken?


	4. Chapter 3

**DISTANCE**

-

**Chapter Three**

-

Living with Anka was a pleasant change from the normal routine she'd settled into since moving into her little flat in Beatrice road.

True the flat was technically only one room, but Hazel didn't really need a living room for anything other than entertaining people and all of her friends were friends with Anka so no one really minded dragging every blanket, chair and beanbag into the living room – now Anka's room – and sitting in front of the laptop to watch a DVD.

It was actually something of a relief to know someone would be waiting for her when she got back from work, at first it had been somewhat weird but with Mr Ivanov hanging around a little more than usual, she was thankful for it. She made certain to leave a copy of her shift hours stuck to the fridge so Anka could know when abouts she would be back, it made for a smart choice because not long later, Ivanov cornered her just outside and tried to convince her to come back to his hotel room. He did not seem very pleased when she refused and looked to be getting more than a little angry before a group of chattering people passed by, giving her enough opportunity to escape and run to her bus stop.

He stopped hanging around after that but she was still paranoid.

Maybe it was experience of having someone like Voldemort who did not know the _meaning_ of 'give up' but she was constantly checking over her shoulder every time she came in for work and every time she left. Her eyes were constantly flickering around the bar and restaurant area in paranoia and fear, Anka was getting concerned and suggested she leave Joe's and find a job elsewhere – Hazel was seriously considering it. When Alexis heard about it, she freaked out, offered to beat the crap out of the man but when Hazel declined changed it to an offer of teaching her a few more Self Defence moves, which were gladly accepted. In fact, everyone was going to meet at the Common, near to the Hawthorne Centre and Paddling pool for a picnic on the Sunday afternoon – despite the fact that it was _bitterly_ cold, but hey, it would be fun either way.

When she and Anka arrived, everything was already in full swing, the entire '_Crew_' as they called themselves were falling around and over one another like excitable puppies in their thick black coats and scarves and hats.

Hazel giggled as she saw Blondie take down Bruce in what _had_ to have been a rather painful tackle, that giggle turned into full blown laughter when the blond haired man began to gyrate and hump the other boy who was making loud exaggerated moaning sounds. Then Shaun joined in and it became a dog pile with Trampy, Kat, Richard, and a few others joining the fray and squashing Bruce into the floor with a pitiful '_bleeeeggh_'ing sound from under Blondie's armpit.

"Haze, Anka, come sit!" Amy called from where she and a few of the calmer people were perched, quite comfortably, in a circle on a large waterproof tarp, coats all pulled around them tightly, faces half concealed by scarves and hats.

Sitting themselves down, after swinging their backpacks off, the two girls reached out and hugged those in the group – it was a strange greeting that Hazel wasn't quite used to but she enjoyed it none the less.

Amy was sat quite comfortably in her boyfriend's lap, Julian was grinning like a monkey in his ridiculous sock hat and it was really only Amy in his lap that prevented him from joining the dogpile – or using his hat to whip people in the ass. Beside him was Joe with Neil curled into his side, Joe was a rather chubby brunet with blue eyes and thin hair – currently in pigtails from where Lauren and Neil had been playing with it – while Neil was a tiny thing, blonde with brown eyes and looked rather a bit like a toothpick. Most in the group found it amusing that it was actually Neil who was the dominant in the relationship, especially when he started going on and on about musicals, Disney and singing love songs in foreign languages. Lauren was a cheery auburn haired girl with blue eyes and a face load of freckles, she was average height but had great legs – she was the current regional champion for Irish Dancing so it wasn't much of a surprise. Alexis was lounging on the other side of Hazel, she had long wavy black hair and brown eyes, she wasn't fat but nor was she thin, Bruce had probably put it best by saying that she was a _woman_ – not a stick insect or a twelve-year-old boy.

Bruce had long curly dark hair and blue eyes, Julian had blonde hair – currently with a green Mohawk under his hat – and grey eyes, Blondie was obviously blonde and his hair was down to his elbows in an absolute mess, he had a lip piercing and a small scruffy ginger beard and blue eyes, while Shaun was a scrawny lanky boy with brunet hair, red fringe/bangs and brown eyes – everyone nicknamed him either Ginger Fringe or Jesus due to an inside joke from before Hazel's time.

Trampy – also known as Trampy Group Whore or just Chris – was a tall Asian kid with glasses and a number of muscles, everyone called him Trampy Group Whore because of his tendency to bounce from group to group and bribe his way in through the use of chocolate. But it was chocolate so all was forgiven. He had yet to bounce away from them but that was because most of everyone figured he was trying to go out with Liz – Liz who reminded Hazel eerily of Luna, in looks and personality.

Elisabeth Handley-Griffeths had dull dishwater blonde hair, slightly protruding blue eyes, pale skin, very little in the way of a chin, stick thin and quiet, real quiet, until she came up with something completely random. Like the 'Silly Songs with Larry' CD which was just... weird, even if Hazel rather liked the Hairbrush song, and the Dancing Cucumber, oh-oh! And the Pirates Who Don't Do Anything.

Kat was a rough and tumble girl, thin, pretty face, waist length chestnut brown hair and brown eyes, always wore a cap, right now she was in a leather trench coat like the rest of the guys and currently had Shaun in a headlock. Behind her was Richard, tall and chubby, he had long curly brown hair and grey eyes, he wore glasses and like Liz, had little in the way of a chin.

"I heard that jackass Levka dumped you." Alexis began, without the slightest bit of tact, "Don't worry sweetie, plenty more fish in the sea, especially mine if you're interested." She added with a saucy wink.

Another thing about Alexis was that she was bi-sexual and about as lecherous as a Horn Dog on the best of days.

Anka giggled slightly, cheeks dusting pink, "_Nyet, ya iz kharashoh_." She managed to get out with a shy smile before burrowing into her clothing with a nervous giggle.

"In English, _Por favour_?" Amy asked with a chuckle.

"She said: no, I'm fine." Hazel broke in, after living with the Russian girl, her mastery over the foreign language had been improving.

Alexis snapped her fingers, "Shame." Before cosying up to the witch, "What about you? I know you are _fine_, but are you fine?" She asked teasingly, making Hazel blink at her in bemusement.

"What?"

There was a pause, and then Alexis laughed, hugging her tightly, "Oh you are just the cutest!" She squeaked, squishing them together and making the witch blush horribly as their breasts pressed together. "Amy, Amy, can I keep her, please can I?" The dark haired girl gushed, looking at her bestfriend who had been watching the proceedings with a grin as everyone chattered around them and watched.

Amy waved an arm lazily, "Sure I don't see why not, but only if you can get a leash on her." She added teasingly, a wicked little grin stretching on her face.

Hazel's face flamed.

"What's this about leashes?" Blondie asked, sitting down as the rest of the group rejoined them on the tarp – Bruce immediately reaching for the bag of Jellybeans that Liz had brought for them to share.

Just another average day, so this was what it was like to be normal.

Hazel smiled slightly, she liked it, and then squeaked as Alexis's hand found her left breast and gave it a judicious squeeze.

-

There was no toilet paper.

They had run out of toilet paper.

Hazel glared at the empty Toilet roll holder as if it were to blame for all her current life problems, and for Voldemort killing her puppy. Not that she had a puppy but thinking about it she should probably get one all the same, honour Sirius's memory or something, and besides, she liked puppies, puppies were cute. But back to the matter at hand. She was wet, sat on the loo, and out of toilet paper.

Something was very wrong with the world.

-

Christmas was fast coming up.

Hazel was glaring mutinously at the sky from her place in the back garden of Joe's, through the kitchen and toward the refrigerated containers at the back of the building there was a garden table and chair set under a tarp covered gazebo for the staff to sit at while on their breaks.

Which was what she was doing now.

It was nearly Christmas and that meant it had been almost over 6 months since she had made a clean break from the Wizarding world, from Harry Potter, from Privet Drive. But she hadn't been able to master the Animagus Transformation, Occlumency OR find a good place to practice Magic without being seen! Yes she'd combed through all the parks, all the hidden places she could think of in the City and around it to no avail. It was driving her nuts that she couldn't find a good location.

The dark haired girl placed her head on the table with a soft frustrated whimper.

"Wassa'matter, Zellie?" asked one of the kitchen cleaners, a Norwegian bloke by the name of Styr Bein, he was tall and brown haired with kindly blue-grey eyes and a pierced eyebrow. "That Russian - " He went off on a string of Norwegian curses that flew too quickly for Hazel's ears to pick up on much more than gibberish and possibly a rhetorical query over the sexual involvement of Mr Ivanov's mother and a goat. She couldn't help but snort as her mind flickered back to Dumbledore admitting that his brother had been arrested for inappropriate charms on a Goat.

"No, no it's not him. I think he went back to where ever it was he came from. I haven't seen him in a long time." She assured him quickly before he could really gather some steam. Smiling when the protective Norwegian man nodded, relaxing against his chair. Even his arm hair stopped bristling. Hazel giggled slightly.

"So what's the matter?" He continued, peering at her seriously from where he was puffing on a cigarette.

"It's nothing. I just can't find anywhere where I can be alone. Completely alone, not a single living soul within five miles of me. I never realised just how stifling and claustrophobic the city was." She admitted sheepishly, spinning a quick white lie.

"You could always try Hythe; they have some sandpits a few miles out of town that hardly anyone goes to. Or the New Forest." He added with a slight shrug.

Hazel blinked and hummed thoughtfully, a Forest huh? And she'd seen the size of that place on several maps, if she found a spot that was uninhabited, no one would notice when she cranked out the more _destructive_ magics. She would just have to be careful of helicopters and hang-gliders and adventurous muggles/ponies.

Her grin nearly split her face, "Oh! _Tahk! Tahk_, Styr_, tahk!_" She exclaimed, bouncing forward and throwing her arms around his shoulders.

The Norwegian laughed heartily, patting her back – making sure not to breathe cigarette smoke in her direction, "_Ingen arsak_, Zellie."

"Black! Break's over! Quit molesting Styr and get back to work, y'bum!" A voice called from up the stairs in the kitchen. It was Martin, one of the other Waiters, grinning like a monkey at them, he was tall, about 6'5" with close cropped black hair, dark brown eyes and dark brown skin – though not quite the same shade of polished ebony that one of the Barmen, David, had; he was more of a warm coffee colour – and a lean lanky body. He had a good sense of humour even if it was generally better suited for the toilet and enjoyed speaking in a French accent to any females within range, though he never did so with Hazel. Whether it was because she was too young or because he just simply did not see her in that light, she didn't know. She was too busy trying to decide whether or not she should have been glad or upset about the difference.

The girl stuck her tongue out but never the less untangled herself and grabbed her teatowel.

Time to go and earn her keep.

-

She tried Hythe, but Styr was wrong about the sandpits.

There were kids, _everywhere_.

She sighed and made her way back towards the road, since she didn't have a Broom anymore – more the fool her for leaving it to Ron she decided – Hazel had to make do with Muggle transportation. Train to Hythe and then rollerblades (which she had borrowed from Anka) down the road till she hit the sandpit.

Thankfully, she'd requested a full-proper weekend off and told Anka she would probably be out all weekend, the other girl didn't question it but instead made sure to hand her a box of cereal bars, the red berry kind since she knew Hazel adored them. And here she was now, wandering across a long stretch of scrub land towards what she could identify as the New Forest – here's to hoping she was right or at least somewhat correct.

She really needed to get a new Broomstick, maybe she could make her own?

Another thing to add to the grow lists in her mind. This one under '_Would be nice/useful but not essential_'.

She decided to add a dog to that list, since it would look odd if she came here often without some kind of reason, a dog would be a good one. Add to that.... she missed having an animal companion, she missed Hedwig and Crookshanks and Pig and... and everyone connected to them.

The 16-year-old slowed to a stop, pressing a hand against her chest with a soft hitch to her breathing, she wondered what Ron and Hermione were up to, how the Order were doing... Had Voldemort decided to devote all his time to trying to find Harry, or had he decided to let the little boy run away and focus his attention on subjugating the Wizarding World...? How was Ginny? And Luna and Neville? Was Malfoy causing them trouble? Were they even in Hogwarts right now?

Dumbledore would be raking the country looking for him, any sign of him, and Snape would be calling him a coward and spoilt brat, Molly would be crying, wondering if he was eating enough.

Hazel shook her head and pinched the skin on the back of her hand, feeling the tight hotness at the bridge of her nose; she was _not_ going to cry! She did more than enough of that, Thank you _very_ much!

The sixteen-year-old straightened her spine and jutted her chin out before marching onwards, sniffling only occasionally as she made her way towards the trees and scrubland out of sight of the road. Ever since she had changed into a woman, her emotions and control had been all over the place, especially in the days leading up to _that time of the month_. One minute she would be thinking and then furious about the way she was treated by the Wizarding world, then smug and a little maliciously gleeful at her escape and the thought of how Dumbledore and the Order must have been running around with their heads cut off, then fearful about what would happen when she finally _did_ return (And she was going to, Prophesy said she had to kill Voldie and she intended on doing so, she just wanted to live a little first, before she went into a situation where she could very well _lose_ that life) and then she became depressed and had to fight back tears at the thought of her friends and the innocent people who were no doubt being tortured or killed for something as stupid as Purity of Blood.

She supposed it was just another side affect of the Rosafio Muto potion, it was still altering her brain chemistry – as was evidenced by some of the changes her body had been going through since her change, for one, her breasts were getting larger, a pain in the backside to be sure when she was outgrowing her bras so quickly (She'd already gone up a cupsize and a half since she had first taken the potion).

She wasn't entirely sure how long she had been walking, just that she had probably been doing so for a LONG time and had finally moved beyond the hearing range of the road and was now deeply enfolded within the trees. Safely out of sight.

Looking around, she couldn't help but think that this wasn't a very good place to practice her magic. The trees were thick and there was entirely too much in the way of undergrowth and dry leaf mould – even in the current bitterly cold and wet weather. No, she would keep looking. She would prefer a good slightly opened space next to a river if possible, somewhere with hard packed earth and enough room to manoeuvre. She knew she was asking a lot, but she had no intention of bringing the Ministry of Magic down on her head for allowing a silly muggle to accidentally catch sight of her doing something physically impossible. She didn't even know if the Ministry was controlled by Voldemort yet – and it was a given that he would, Lucius Malfoy had been running it while he was away via greasing the golden strings that made Fudge dance.

Humming cheerfully, she kept walking, stepping lightly over the leaf-mould, keeping her feet out of it by stepping on tree roots and raised tufts of earth – she didn't trust them and wasn't keen on finding out what was beneath them by putting her foot in there, she might step on a snake or something.

As of right now, she was bundled up tightly in her winter clothing with a backpack full of shrunken books, equipment and a regular muggle tent and some bedding. Dressed in a pair of blue jeans, she wore a pair of tight black leggings underneath to keep her warm, two pairs of socks and a pair of good hiking boots, a long sleeved top under a thick white knitted poloneck and a zipped up black hoodie with dark blue stylised angel wings on her shoulder blades – a gift from Lexie – and finally her cloak and scarf, the former lacking its Gryffindor patch and the latter looking a little worn and hard-done-by. In her bag, she had her tent, a sleeping bag, a pillow, an extra blanket, the cereal bars Anka gave her, a few Tupperware boxes of food – KFC fried chicken, tomato and basil Pasta Bake, Hawaiian Pizza, fish and chips and a thermos of Hot Chocolate still under warming charms and a bottle of Diet Coke under a Cooling Charm – and a whole mess of books she had copied from Hogwarts Restricted Section and from the Room of Requirement. The RoR books had been given a lot more precedence as she had specifically requested books based on practicality opposed to theory – she knew her strengths and weaknesses better than everyone liked to think she did.

When she finally found the perfect practice place, she was setting up her tent and camping equipment, and then she was grabbing her book on Wards and doing her damned best to get the area secure.

And when it came time to leave, she would go but leave behind her tent and camping equipment and Wards – because she was _going_ to come back, come hell or high water.

She was vaguely aware of walking uphill for a moment before shrugging a shoulder and continuing, there were a fair few hills in this area, nothing too big. Then she saw it. Her perfect practice spot.

It wasn't big, about the same size as her dormitory at Hogwarts, the trees were old and young at the same time, the hard packed earth was worn away and bare with grass going in closely cropped clumps in the shadows of the trees, it was a sunny little patch with a cheerfully trickling stream, barely a metre wide and half a foot deep, pebbles and silt lined the bottom and she could see small fish as they flitted across the dark stones. Now she just had to find her way down this hill and around – because the ground fell away sharply a few feet in front of her making a natural sand and clay cliff edge about three and a bit metres off the ground down there.

Two hours later, Hazel was digging through her bag and pulling out her book on warding, her campsite now set up and spelled for convenient sake – the tent had warming charms on it, the fire had a smoke prevention charm, everything had bug repelling charms and she'd already enlarged a bucket from her pack and filled it with water and charmed it clean.

Now.

Time to get started on those wards.

A Muggle Repelling one would do quite nicely at this juncture.

-

**Finished!! 8DD**

**Took a while to get this one done but I'm finally moving things along. Now for those of you who are concerned about this..... I did say before that I supported both slash and fem!slash and I hold true to that. I stated before that Harry was into both sexes, the Rosafio Muto potion reverses your brain chemistry, ergo, a gay man takes it, and he thinks like a gay woman, aka, he starts liking women – even if he does end up acting more feminine and his brain and body start producing estrogens naturally. Ergo, just because Harry's gender has changed, doesn't mean he's suddenly only into men or that he's only into women, it means he's still into both. **

ERGO HE WILL BE IN RELATIONSHIPS WITH BOTH MEN AND WOMEN.

**I hope that clears some things up for you guys. And no, the Potion is permanent. He will not be changing back into a man.**

**He will also not be paired with a Canon Character. All of them will be OCs but very few of them with have any kind of prominent role in the story. Maybe a few scenes where they show up and everything is good and they kiss and cuddle, but apart from the regular dramas of the real world, there won't be much to do with them. This is Hazel's story, how she handles being thrown into the world, how she trains to deal with Voldemort, how she handles magic and the changes her personality goes through from all of her experiences. This is a kind of.... 'coming of age' story, very different from my usual stuff but I wanted to give something slower and less action orientated a go. I like it so far.**

Also, thank you everyone for the care and concern shown towards my Grandparents. But I do have sad news.

My Granny unfortunately passed away on Sunday morning 27 of September.

Her funeral was held in a nice, quiet little Protestant Church in Motherwell Scotland, the Priest was very kind and very caring and the service was tasteful and respectful. I cried like an utter baby and my Uncle Wullie couldn't look anyone in the eye, my Grandpa just sat there with his arms folded the whole time – he didn't whistle once, he's always whistling, he doesn't even know that he's doing it until someone points it out, but he didn't whistle this time. I learned a lot of things about my Granny that I wished I knew when she was alive, like how her favourite TV show was Star Trek – Enterprise to be specific – and how she'd actually won awards for her homemade wine, wine made out of Parsnips. _Parsnips._ She was cremated, and Grandpa's going to spread her ashes across the garden like she wanted, me and the other women in the family divided up her jewellery between us, I got a pair of Amethyst pendants, a Kilt pin made out of Amber, silver and a pheasant's claw, one of her ribbons and her favourite pendent. It was a gold chain with the letter J on it, her name was Janet, the only other J in the family aside from me.

Then came the wake.

Scots have an amusing way of mourning the dead, they get so drunk they can't recognise their younger sisters. As what happened with my Uncle Wullie and Auntie Allison. My Uncles made their older brother (my dad) look like an utter wuss with all the alcohol they put away that night, but I can safely say that I don't think Grandpa will ever really be alone, all the women in the local area have dropped by, they'll all keep an eye on him for Granny.

So thank you all so much for the care and concern you've shown me and my family. It is _truly and deeply_ appreciated.

Araceil


	5. Chapter 4

**DISTANCE**

**-**

**Chapter Four**

-

Christmas eve.

Somehow... Christmas at the Burrow without Harry seemed...... less, quieter and sadder.

It had been months since he simply just... vanished, so completely and so suddenly that he must have been planning it for months if not _years_ before finally leaving. No one had noticed a thing. No one had realised just how discontent their young friend was with them, they all blamed themselves on some level because they knew that Harry wouldn't have left out of sheer cowardice, he wasn't like that.

Hermione blamed herself, she thought she'd pushed him away by constantly nagging him, by pushing and pushing and pushing and then getting upset when he didn't conform to her expectations. Ron blamed himself, he cursed his stupidity in rejecting Harry when his jealousy got too much, the fact that he'd left his broom, his Firebolt to Ron, just twisted the knife that little bit deeper. Remus thought it was his fault, that Harry was angry with him or holding him back when he wanted to go to Sirius in the Department of Mysteries. Dumbledore blamed himself, for laying the war at a child's feet and expecting him to clean it up, to kill a man that he himself couldn't.

But never the less, they carried on as best they could.

The Christmas trees were lit, the decorations were out, the presents wrapped and ready, the house filled with the delicious scent of Mrs Weasley's cooking, and the door bell was ringing.

"I'll get it." Hermione called, being the closest of them to the door. Curiously, the brunette peered out of the window suspiciously, her hand resting on the handle of her wand, she frowned at the blue uniform and orange fluorescent jacket. Cracking the door open she eyed him suspiciously, "Can I help you?" She asked warily.

The Post Man looked a little surprised at her behaviour, and a touch uncomfortable at the structure of the house, "Erm, yeah, is this the Burrow? Weasley residence? Only, I've got a lot of packages and a few letters for you." He admitted nervously, glancing back up and shifting his weight.

Hermione frowned, "Who are they from?" She demanded, grip tightening on her wand.

"Look lady, I don't know. They come in, they hand 'em out, I deliver 'em. That's how it works." The Postal worker finally snapped, his voice apologetic but also frustrated, "Post marks say they came from London. Are you going to sign for them or not?" He asked, slightly desperately as he looked upwards again, holding out his clipboard. It was electronic she noticed with a touch of surprise, well, that settled it, if he was under _Imperio_ there's no way any of the Purebloods would know what it was for.

"Of course, sorry about that, we've been getting some worrying threats in the mail so we're a bit paranoid these days." She lied as she opened the door a little further and accepted the device, signing her name for the packages which he handed over with an air of relief.

"No problem miss, you should probably report that to the police. Anyway, I'll be off, I... no offence but it looks like the house is about to collapse." He admitted sheepishly before practically running away.

Hermione couldn't help but giggle as she returned into the house, her arms laden with jiffy bags, a small stack of envelopes in an elastic band and a cardboard box wrapped in brown paper with white string. "A little... _help! _Over here please!" She called, staggering into the kitchen and managing to deposit everything on the table without breaking it – she had seen the somewhat familiar scrawl in the top corner proclaiming it to be fragile.

Curious, the brown haired Witch sorted through the bags and box, separated them, there was a jiffy bag for her, the box was for Ron and marked fragile, there was a jiffy bag for Luna and another one for Ginny, a larger one for Remus and another one for Molly and Arthur, the stack of envelopes were addressed to her, Ron, Ginny, Luna, Neville, Dumbledore, Remus, Molly&Arthur, the twins, Charlie and Bill, one to Professor McGonagall, and one to Dobby the House Elf of all people.

"What's all this 'Mione?" Ron asked, appearing at her shoulder.

She pulled a face, "I don't know. The Muggle Postman just dropped them off, your house kinda scared him though, he thought it was going to fall over and crush him." She admitted with a sly smile as Ron blushed.

"Who do you think they're from?" The red head asked, poking at his box warily.

Hermione shrugged, "All the post marks suggest London and we both know that none of the Purebloods would try and send anything the muggle way, they don't know how. It can't be a trap and the Post man wasn't _Imperio_'d. The handwriting is familiar though."

"Well, let's open one and find out." Ron suggested.

Eagerly, he reached out and grabbed the box, shaking it gently and frowning slightly when he heard a faint clinking sound from within, setting it down; he pulled the string off with a firm tug and began to pull apart the packaging. Once opened, he pulled aside the covering tissue paper to find a collection of balled up chunks of blue paper, unwrapping one, he gasped and stared in wonder at the delicate frosted glass Knight in his hand. A carefully carved horse, tiny but in full detail, bearing medieval tack and even a little knight perched upon its back.

"Oh, wow. That's gorgeous, Ronald." Hermione exclaimed, studying it carefully with appreciative eyes. Her eyes canted downwards and carefully, as if expecting him to slap her hand away, she removed another wad of paper and unwrapped it to reveal a kneeling figure in a Monk's habit, hood obscuring its face and a small shield and sword in hand. A Pawn. "I think... you have an entire set here." She exclaimed, studying the clear glass Pawn.

The two exchanged glances and suddenly there was blue paper everywhere as they removed all the figures from the box, unwrapped them and set them side, all of them in glass, one side frosted and the other side clear, all of them done in an almost impossible degree of detail and elegance. The chessboard itself was beautiful, simple checked pattern of frosted and clear glass with a mirrored base. A small inscription was carved delicately onto one side in an elegant cursive script.

'_It's not the size of the dog in the fight, but rather the size of the fight in the dog._'

Hermione stared at the inscription, "That's... surprisingly deep." She admitted softly, glancing up to Ron and silently wondering just who would have thought to write such an inscription for him. He wasn't the most powerful of Wizards and he certainly wasn't the smartest, but he was a fighter and he was as ferocious as they came. It fit him. To a 'T'.

Ron nodded silently, fingertips grazing the frosted King, a regal figure stood in a long robe, a staff with a single red stone set on the tip. At his side stood the queen, a tall figure in an elegant dress with a staff of her own, this one tipped in some kind of yellow stone.

Something nagged at him.

"What about you 'Mione? What did you get?" He asked, turning away from the chess set.

Hermione carefully picked up the jiffybag, "Feels like a... I don't know." She admitted, a frown on her face as she carefully opened it up and withdrew a thin box-file about an inch and a half thick and about A4 sized, her eyes widened as she skimmed her fingers across it. It was pink; a colour that not many would have associated with the bookworm but it was one of her favourites, patterned with brown branches and little pink and silver flowers of a darker shade than the rest of the file. She turned it over and read the small print at the back: '_A pattern inspired by the Japanese social phenomenon of flower viewing (Hanami), where the imperial households, poets, singers and other aristocrats would gather and celebrate under the blossoms_'.

"What is it?" Ron asked.

"It's a box-file, good for storing things." The brunette admitted and shifted the box, pausing when she heard something inside it move, "there's something in there." She told him, setting the file down beside the chess set and cracking it open.

Her eyes widened as she saw the hard-back A5 notebook of a similar cover style, a fountain pen and a plastic wallet, the front page reading: _**Magical Sensitivity – Blessings to he who knows without being told**_. The bookworm's fingers _itched_ to whip out the papers – obviously typed up on the computer and then printed out – and read through them, whomever had sent this knew exactly what she would be interested in.

"A book on magical sensitivity, typed up on the computer at that! It must have taken _hours_!" She exclaimed, suddenly feeling... rather touched that someone would go to that effort for her.

"I wonder who they're from..." Ron muttered before his eyes flickered to the letters, he picked his own up and handed over Hermione's.

Cracking open the muggle envelope, Ron used a brief moment to marvel over how it stayed closed without a wax seal before he remembered Hermione mentioning glue to him and pulling it open to get at the missive inside.

_Dear Ron,_

_Please don't throw this away, please read it through to the end. I can't stop you of course, but I do hope..._

_It's Harry._

Ron's eyes practically bugged out of his skull, his breathing catching, beside him he heard Hermione choke and rasp her throat in alarm, no doubt she too had just discovered who had sent the letters and ergo, the gifts.

_I'm alive and well and missing you guys like crazy, I can't tell you how badly I feel, and I can't imagine how you must feel – betrayal and anger were my best bets and I was quite frankly scared of sending these letters. I considered just mailing your gifts and leaving it like that but I just couldn't do that to you. I couldn't leave you in the dark._

_I'm not going to say that what I did was for the greater good, it wasn't. I hate the wizarding world; I have done since the Triwizard Tournament, since before even the first task. When Voldemort came into the open, Dumbledore told me some things and I knew that everyone would be expecting me to pull off another miracle, to banish him again. Afterall, if I could do it once before I could even string together a full sentence, then surely I could do it again? No. No I couldn't. Because I didn't do anything and Voldemort had already discovered a way of countering it. _

_I ran. I left because I knew I wasn't ready and I wasn't going to die for a world that I hated._

_I will be back. I swear on my Magic that I will. And I will never forget you and Hermione, ever, I couldn't and I wouldn't want to. I will come back, I will and I will kill Voldemort I promise you and I promise Hermione and everyone else._

_But not until I'm certain that I can win._

_I've done a lot of things to stay off the radar; I will continue to do so until its time to stop hiding. But I'm not the same person I was before; don't be surprised if I look a little different, the changes are permanent so there's no going back. But I've learned to deal with them, it's not all that bad now that I'm used to it._

_I've made some friends, I have a job and a little place of my own, my roommate is going back home for Christmas so I'll be on my own, it feels weird, not having you guys here. But I'm coping, I'm working hard at my magic and doing well, still haven't mastered Occlumency but Voldemort hasn't even tried getting into my mind lately. I'm a little anxious about you guys, if he isn't trying to find me, that means he's too busy trying to subjugate the Wizarding world._

_Anyway. I'd best stop now. This place charges for how much paper you use and I don't have much on me right now – spent most of it on your gift, I do hope you like it. _

_Try to get in on the Order meetings Ron, you have the mind of a Military tactical genius; don't let them pass you over just because you're younger than they are. If they can expect me to be a murderer before I'm of age, the least they can do is expect you to contribute to the planning. You and Hermione are a force to be reckoned with, stay together, stay safe and don't let the Ferret bait you for anything. _

_He's just depressed that the inbreeding gave him a tiny penis._

Ron snorted and burst out laughing which made Hermione peer over his shoulder and tsk disapprovingly, even though her mouth twitched into a smile. "How crude." She murmured.

_I'll be back eventually. Unfortunately, there's no way for you guys to get into contact with me, it was a huge risk just sending these and I shouldn't have. But I've taken almost every precaution I humanly can but I just couldn't leave you guys without anything to go on._

_All my love and hope,_

_Harry_

_P.S.: I watched a muggle film about vampires, my god; Ron, ask Hermione if you can watch Twilight. I guarantee you'll either die laughing or of shock and horror that some idiot muggle woman actually thought Vampires were like that._

"Mione," Ron began, looking at her. "What's Twilight?"

And then, to his horror, she blushed.

-

Hazel curled up in her nest of blankets, staring quietly at the candle on the far table, the only source of light within the room, she had her wands in her grasp a trunk full of shrunken books and clothes and other personal affects hidden in a pocket.

She was terrified. Anxiousness and fear made her cold even with the three blankets she was currently wrapped within; the door was closed as she could hear the wind and the rain outside. She froze as she thought she heard footsteps outside her door and shrank down in her blankets, heart practically hammering loudly enough that she wondered how on earth no one could have heard it.

But the steps carried on and she could hear a set of keys jangling in the still silence of her little flat. A door was unlocked and opened. Then closed. She could hear a quietly called greeting and the answering call of a young woman, the soft wail of an infant.

Andy and Rune, Andy must have just come back from his shift and woken Ben up.

She closed her eyes in relief and relaxed her painfully tense muscles.

Hazel had done something very, _very_ stupid earlier.

She'd sent Christmas presents to her old friends, letters to those she missed, nothing close, nothing conspicuous that would give away her location. Anka had gone home to Russia so Hazel decided to mail the gifts from the airport when she went to see her off; hopefully it would keep them off her trail. But still, it was foolish and stupid and now she was absolutely shit scared that she would have the Order or the Aurors or the Death Eaters busting through her front door wands blazing and curses on their lips.

Hazel clutched her Holly wand tightly, feeling the familiar grain under her fingertips and the way the fiery magic of the slender wood warmed her and wrapped protectively around her. Her sensitivity to the flows of magic through out her body and the objects around her had not yet faded, actually, the more she felt them, identified them, studied them and explored them just made them all the more noticeable to her, familiar. Just holding a hand near one of the enchanted objects was enough for her to recognise the enchantments, sometimes even manipulate them.

In the end, it had become a subject of intense interest to her and she knew that Hermione would love to explore it as well, she'd copied one of the books she had about it – via her laptop to prevent any magical residue they could use to track her – and sent it off in a boxfile along with a notebook and a fountain pen she'd seen in Blackwells that she knew Hermione would love in a jiffy bag along with a frosted glass chess set for Ron, several seed packets for Neville, a '_make your own necklace_' kit out of beads and the like from a little odds and ends shop for Luna and a small red glass pendent from Sainsburies that looked a bit like a feather for Ginny. For Remus she sent along a new set of woolly hat, gloves and a scarf done in dark red along with a good long letter apologising, explaining her reasons for leaving, some vague things about what had happened, her friends – though she never mentioned names or appearances – the fact that she had a job and was studying hard. She closed it with the statement that she _would_ come back, but only when she was ready to face Voldemort and be certain of winning – because if she lost, things would get much, _much_ worse.

To Dumbledore, it was a simple letter stating that she would come back when she was prepared to face Voldemort and win, that she was studying hard and to stop wasting time looking for her because his time and efforts would be better suited to keeping the muggleborn safe.

To Mrs Weasley it was an apology and a box of shortbread biscuits she'd made with Anka before the Russian girl left, she explained that it was about time she started to try and repay her for all the sweets she'd made for her. And then apologised for the horrendous attempt at cooking. She'd then sent a letter to the twins along with some photocopies of muggle legislation about opening up a business and said that there was a large empty space in the prank industry in the muggle world if they wanted to have a go at filling it – wink, wink, nudge, nudge.

Of course, now she was terrified they would be able to use any minute trace of her Magical Signature left on them to track her down – hence why all the objects were muggle in origin, why all the letters were typed up on the computer and printed out at the library in the Civic Centre. She hadn't even signed them. Names held power, even fake ones, putting her name on it would leave an imprint of her Magical Essence on the paper – it was much the same way the Goblet Of Fire chose its contestants and why they HAD to compete. As it stood, Hazel could have stepped back from that contest and ignored it, suffering no ill harm because she wasn't tied to it. However, because she continued to compete, she essentially became Barty Jr's Proxy, his stand-in for the competition. How annoying.

The girl jolted with a soft shriek as someone knocked on her front door, startling her into falling off the bed with a thud.

"Zell! Open the damn door, its cold out here!" The dark haired girl breathed an almost silent sigh of relief, Alexis, not the wizards, just Alexis... why was Alexis at her door on Christmas eve?

Getting to her feet and slipping her wands under her mattress, the dark haired girl paused briefly before realising her near empty room would be a bit suspicious and grabbed the Holly wand back. Due to the nature of wands, Regulus's wand tended to disagree with her at times, jarred against her like a bestfriend you'd fallen out of contact with for too long, familiar yet not. For quick casting, it was safer to stick with her Holly wand.

"Zeeell..." The older woman whined.

"I'm coming already." Hazel huffed, flicking her wand once more to straighten out the last of the books – thankful that she'd been sitting in candle light instead of lamp-light because guaranteed it would have exploded. Wrapping herself up in one of the fleece blankets, the sixteen-year-old made her way into the hall and opened up the front door, blinking at the sight of the dark haired girl currently juggling a few boxes of Tupperware, a number of suspicious plastic bags and a backpack that was bulging at the seams. At least she was dressed festively as a rather raunchy Mrs Claus. No wonder she was cold.

"Merry Christmas!!" The girl chirped enthusiastically, somehow managing to get herself and everything she was carrying past the stunned witch and into the flat.

"Lexie, what _are_ you doing here? I thought you were spending Christmas with your mum?" The witch asked in disbelief, finally regaining enough presence of mind to close the door and shuffle after her friend who was somehow managing to turn the lights on with all of her hands full.

"I was going to but then she decided to blow me off for her latest toy." Came the dismissive reply. Hazel felt something in her chest squeeze.

Alexis's parents had divorced when she was young; the cause being her mother being unfaithful and too fickle with her emotions, Alexis lived with her father for a time before her mother, in a fit of petty malice, took him to court over her custody. Even Hazel, who knew very little about the muggle courts beyond what she'd studied to have a chance in her current situation, knew that they would be bias toward Alexis's mother. They shouldn't, but sometimes the instinct that children belong with the mother is hard to ignore, Alexis was packed off to live with a woman who basically saw her as a fashion accessory or an obstacle. Alexis still kept in contact with her dad and they had a very good relationship, she tended to ignore her mother as much as possible though. Difficult though because now that she'd moved out, gotten herself a job as a trainee dentist and began making something of herself, her mother was trying to dig her claws in just that little bit more. Hazel had the dubious pleasure of meeting the woman once. She decided straight off the bat she hated the blonde bitch.

Seeing the slightly taller girl putting everything down, Hazel moved behind her and hugged her friend, making her jump slightly.

"I'm sorry." She said quietly. Family shouldn't treat each other like that despite the fact they were both victims of it.

"Heh-hey, it's alright. Seriously Sweetie. I'm cool with it. Kind of wanting her to blow me off actually." She admitted, throwing an arm around the thinner girl and pulling her closer, pressing a kiss to the side of her head. "I knew you'd be on your own and I'd rather spend the Crimbo Hols with you than her."

Hazel nodded slightly; it was strangely comforting having someone wanting to spend the season with her, of their own volition, over spending it with their family.

"Now. I have my deliciously home-made Smoked Gammon joint ready for boiling tomorrow (She didn't notice or was ignoring the way Hazel mouthed the words 'boil' with a confused look on her face), some potatoes for roasting, sausages and bacon for Pigs in Blankets, peas, broccoli and a bottle of a rather nice red wine. All for tomorrow. For tonight, I have _MUNCHIES!_" She cheered, whipping one of the plastic bags and upending it over the sofa bed, spewing out sweet packets, popcorn, fudge, chocolate, biscuits, donuts and a few other knickknacks for snacking on. Hazel gaped. "But that's not all," she continued with a wicked grin, "I know you've never seen _any_ of the classics so I brought these!"

DVDs. Lots of them.

Shaun of the Dead, Resident Evil, Underworld, Chronicles of Riddick, St Trinians, The Last Samurai, the DVD boxset of Avatar the Last Airbender, the second and third two films of Naruto, a DVD of Burn-UpW, the Legend of Zorro, Final Fantasy 7: Advent Children and the Aliens Series. Hazel was pleased to note there were no Disney films in there – the last time they, meaning all the girls, had decided to have a film night, Amy had discovered that Hazel had never seen a Disney film in her life, and thus set her off watching Cinderella, Snow White and the Seven Dwarves and, of all films, the Swan Princess – though technically not a Disney film it ran along the same lines. Hazel had been thoroughly disgusted by all of them much to the amusement of everyone present and ranted quite forcefully on the subject of girls not being that weak and magic being performed in _completely_ the wrong way. Now everyone thought she was just some weird occultist nut, but she was their occultist nut so everyone was good with it.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah? Good, huh?" Alexis asked, grinning.

Hazel, who had never seen any of them in her life, nodded enthusiastically with a bright smile. Alexis giggled in a remarkably... _nasty_ way, not nasty as in cruel but... almost slutty nasty and promptly pushed Hazel down onto the sofa.

"You stay here and sort out the food. I'll grab the blankets, table and laptop and we'll watch the Alien series first. Oh and set out the sofa bed, it's more comfy if you're snuggling." She told the younger girl with an all-knowing nod before scurrying off into Hazel's room to grab every blanket, pillow and soft toy she had – which wasn't very many, she had a few which she'd bought herself simply because they reminded her of Padfoot, Moony and Prongs but there had been presents from the others, they seemed to like jumping on her with a random gift every now and again, though they did warn her not to get used to it. She began to unfold the sofa bed and move the sweets onto the side while Alexis flitted about the house, humming and laughing and generally filling the previously silent room with sound.

Once everything was set out, the dark haired girl came back in and threw a set of pyjamas at Hazel, already dressed in her own baggy T-shirt and sleep shorts, fuzzy pink bunny slippers on her feet. "Get changed." She practically ordered, nearly vibrating with excitement.

Hazel didn't bother arguing and got changed under the bedcovers, not wanting to move herself from the warm nest. A split second later, she was tossing her clothes in the corner and Alexis was curling up beside her, cold feet brush her calves and making her squeak and wriggle while she laughed. Eventually they got settled and Alexis started the film.

Later, Hazel would deny point blank she had been scared; she would lie through her pearly whites. After you'd seen Voldemort and Dementors and Dragons and Basilisks and a cheesed off Severus Snape, bad muggle special affects and psychological Horror should _not_ have affected her.

But the fact remained that at some point in the film she'd ended up curled up in Alexis's lap, squeaking every now and again and hiding her face in the older woman's neck whenever someone died or there was a flash of something rubbery black and _menacing._

Lexie just grinned, perhaps a bit too smugly for comfort.

-

**Right, I had an odd review, it was anon so I figured I would answer it here because I can see other people being a bit curious about this and making comment. **

**It's about all the new characters I'm introducing and the seemingly slow pace of the story so please listen up Fiendfyre because while I am thankful for the constructive crit (Much more than I may seem right now) but I feel the need to defend myself a little :)**

**Point the first:** She's not living in Council Flats. I don't know where you got that idea but Council Tax is something that EVERYONE pays. It goes towards Ambulance services, Fire and Rescue, Police, almost all the Emergency response 999 groups, it goes towards the bin collections and towards the Council for services like Job Seekers Allowance and other Benefits along with fixing up the roads and just the general management and maintenance of the city. She's not having a '_lower class struggle_' as you put it; she's actually got quite a lot of money and is living quite comfortably due to the money transfers from her '_Heiress_' account in Sweden. I work full time and I couldn't afford the place she's living in – believe me I checked how much rent there was, £500 a month. I earn barely over £800 after I get my pay taxed. Where she's living is an actual block of flats just under a mile from where my parents live, my older brother lived there with his at the time girlfriend-now wife and their two cats, it's a nice place and if she can afford it, I'd rather put her there than have her in the Shirley or Millbrook Towers. They are not nice locations (apologies to anyone reading this who actually lives there. But you know what I mean when I say the halls smell of piss almost all the time – or at least everytime I go visiting friends who live there).

**Second:** Yes, a lot of it may seem like my personal experiences because some of them ARE. I'm not going to write about places and situations I know nothing about, it's foolish and it just doesn't work and if it goes wrong, I feel like an idiot and my writing suffers for it. With fantasy you can get away with it if you use your imagination, but Hazel/Harry is currently living in the real world, our world. Forgive me if I want to highlight the differences between the Medieval-archaic Wizarding world and the modern muggle world. I worked as a Waitress for a Month at Joe Daflo's, I enjoyed it, but me and the public don't mix all that well. I left after a month before I punched someone, Waitressing is one of the most stressful, least satisfying and exhaustive jobs I know and I say well done and rock on to anyone who can stick it out and become a professional waitress. It may seem easy, but it really is NOT.

**Third:** In almost every one of the whole – Harry leaves the Wizarding World, he makes friends with those of other species and completely forgets about Ron and Hermione, they become integral to his life and his well being, which y'know is good. It works. But that's not real life. I'm trying to make this as true to life as possible. Not everyone Hazel meets is going to be important, not everyone she knows will make more than maybe two or three appearances. That's life. People, strangers, friends and acquaintances will walk in and out as it pleases them. But her mind will be on her old friends, on Ron and Hermione and Neville and Luna and Ginny and what they all think of her, its human nature to cling to old friends, especially with what they've all gone through. So, despite Hazel having new friends, she's not dismissing the old ones – as demonstrated by the Christmas pressies. But on the other hand, this is from Hazel's point of view, she's going to see every person as they are, she's not going to know if they'll stick around or not. Some of them may not be important in the beginning, but later on they may become integral and vice versa. Unlike with my other stories, I have a few scenes planned out and the barest of plot-bones for this. It's something I'm writing for fun and fleshing out as I go. I get ideas at the drop of the hat, while it is fun to try and find a way of threading them into some of my more heavily planned stories, its just as fun to just throw them in one that isn't being planned quite so well and see where it takes me.

**To me, writing is as much of an adventure as it is for people reading it.**

**I hope that explained a little bit and I do hope you guys keep reading but hey, your choice. Now, as I warned in previous chapters, there will be fem-slash, the next chapter will have the beginnings of that. **

**Now that the Rosafio Muto Potion has really taken root in Hazel's brain, I classify her as FULLY female. Ergo, any relationship between her and another woman is fem!slash and anyone between her and a man as het. If this makes you guys squeamish then.... well there won't be any Lemons or Oranges in this. A few light spritzes of Lime but that's it. There will be warnings so you can skip them. Along with any scenes of excessive violence and-or gore.**

Araceil


	6. Chapter 5

**Distance**

**-**

**Chapter Five**

-

It was warm, almost too warm. Comfortable too.

Hazel didn't want to get up, dimly she was aware that she was sleeping on the couch with Lexie, the two of them in a knot of blankets, pillows and limbs with the laptop in front of them, the sun peeking weakly through the curtains and the sounds of the children shrieking happily as they tore up and down the corridor and the tiny little garden outside in front of the car park.

Alexis groaned, "Turn the fucking sun off," she demanded grumpily, burrowing her face back into Hazel's hair, the tip of her cold nose nuzzling against the back of her ear.

The last conscious thought in the witch's head was that Alexis's boobs made wonderful pillows.

-

The sound of plastic bags rustling woke her again.

Bleary green eyes cracked open and squinted at the wall clock, 11.39/11.40-ish, lunch time her stomach reminded her, growling pointedly.

Groaning and curling up in a ball, he was aware that Alex had vanished from behind her and was now laughing at her from the kitchen.

"Mornin' sleepy head," she called cheerily, laughing again when all she got was a grunt of displeasure. "Merry Christmas,"

"Fuck Christmas, I wanna sleep," Hazel growled from her nest on the couch.

Smirking at the other girl, Alexis shook her head and returned to the kitchen, ah well, it was one of her own family traditions not to open the presents until _after_ you'd eaten Christmas Lunch. That wouldn't be ready for another hour at least she decided, peering into the casserole pot and grinning at the bubbling black liquid and meat joint within. Call her crazy, call her a blasphemous heretic for making something that _wasn't_ a Turkey or a Chicken or a Goose (Who the hell ate Goose at Christmas anyway? Didn't you know Boxing Day was the day of cold leftovers? Goose was positively _**vile**_ when cold.) but instead, she was making Christmas Lunch from a smoked joint of Pork Gammon.

Alexis wasn't one for cooking, in fact, she was rather terrible at it. She was a wonderful baker though, she could make lovely sweets and cakes and cookies, which probably wasn't a good thing considering how she was studying to be a Dentist. But she'd been living alone for a long time, and during that time, she'd found recipes she could follow, foods she knew how to cook with minimal effort and maximum tastiness. This was one of them.

Gammon in Coke. Full Fat Coca Cola, half an onion and a joint of smoked Gammon Meat, bung 'em in a pot, set it on the hob, leave it until it starts to boil and then turn it down to a simmer and let stew for an hour or so. Come back, turn the meat and cut off the layer of fat and let simmer for another two hours with the lid only slightly off. It took a while but when it was finished, oh her mouth just _watered_ thinking about it, all that tender sweet meat that just fell apart in her mouth.

There was a lot more to the original recipe, cloves, black treacle, mustard powder, but she preferred this simplified one. It was faster, easier and it tasted better in her opinion. To go with the Gammon, they would be having peas, honey roast potatoes, baby carrots, a little bit of stuffing – just for tradition's sake – and pigs in blankets. For dessert, she'd hidden away a mint chocolate Gateau in Hazel's freezer and a strawberry cheesecake in the fridge, they would have both she decided.

Digging through Hazel's cupboards, she found the nicest tableware she could, placemats and coasters, she'd even rifled through the airing cupboard for a tablecloth – she didn't find one, but a sheet worked just as well. The twenty year old wanted everything to be _perfect_ for when she asked... Well. When she popped a certain question to the younger girl, so to speak.

Amy hadn't been too impressed when she found out about her plans, her friend was just that touch too... prudish regarding certain things, like age differences.

Alexis sighed as she began to wash the kitchen equipment she'd dirtied up already, listening with half an ear as Hazel surfaced from the bed and shuffled around, cursing softly as she escaped into her room to get dressed.

"You alright in there?" Alexis called, grinning slightly as she heard a thud and a particularly vile swear word come from the usually so polite and well spoken young woman.

"Peachy. Just Frickin' _peachy_," came the sneered response before the girl in question shuffled back into the living room and Alexis's line of sight, she looked almost pained and kept rubbing her forehead.

"Are you sure you're alright?" the older woman asked, her eyebrow creasing slightly in concern as she wrapped the thinner girl in her arms, pressing their foreheads together. Hazel blushed at the contact and quickly looked away, mentally began to hum the first song that popped into her head, coincidentally the theme music to the Chocobo Races in Final Fantasy VII, as their breasts pressed together. Perhaps it was just the leftover remnants of the sixteen year old boy who had only ever been kissed once – badly at that – and only hugged by someone he considered a mother but she just couldn't help the burning in her face when Alexis did that, pressed them together like that. She could feel her headache beginning to abate though so she just closed her eyes and made a non-committal sound in the back of her throat. Alexis chuckled, "Well, aren't you a grumpy guts today," she stated teasingly.

Hazel chose not to comment, "What are you cooking? It smells nice."

"Gammon in coke, roast potatoes, all the trimmings you need for a decent Christmas Lunch," the brown eyed woman announced proudly.

"You cook?" Hazel asked, pulling away from the hug.

"Of course I cook!" Alexis exclaimed looking affronted, "if I couldn't cook, you think I would have survived this long on my own?" she demanded.

Hazel blushed, "Amy... Amy said that you couldn't cook to save your life though,"

"Well, she's right. But I can cook a few things!" She exclaimed pouting unhappily.

The two of them stood in companionable silence in the kitchen for a little while before Alexis suddenly grinned slyly, "This'll take another hour to finish cooking, wanna watch some Avatar?" she asked, gesturing to the laptop and the bed strewn with sweet wrappers and crumbs.

Hazel shrugged, "OK, I've never seen Avatar," she admitted picking up all the wrappers and tossing them in the waste-paper bin under the table.

"It's good, you'll love Sokka, promise," Alexis told the other girl as she shook out the blankets, dislodging the crumbs from their late night movie fest munchies, "his sense of humour is right up your alley I think," she added with a grin.

Hazel chuckled, "We'll see, we'll see," she said, flopping back onto the sofa as Alexis bent over the laptop and began to load up Avatar: The Last Airbender, Book One: Water.

They managed to get through two episodes before the timer in the kitchen went off and Alexis got up to deal with the food, leaving Hazel sitting on her sofa feeling a strange kind of empathy toward Aang along with a growing guilt for abandoning her own so called '_Mission of Destiny_'. On the other hand though, this Bending, it sounded incredible. She wondered if she would be able to do it, the idea of controlling the wind currents and being able to fly without the aid of a broom-stick was just... it was next to every Flight enthusiast's dream! But... maybe she should have stayed, fought Voldemort like they wante- NO!

No, no, no, no, N-O, NO!!

She shook her head rapidly, no, she had done _nothing_ wrong! Nothing! She didn't start that fight! She just got caught in the middle of it through simply being born in the wrong month of the year! She had every right to bow out before she got her head blown off! If Dumbledore was really serious about her saving them, she should never have been handed to the Dursleys, she should have been _trained_, taught how to fight, how to access her magic, how to face a man of that age and power while having none herself. 'Power He Knows Not', well, it certainly wasn't Love like she assumed Dumbledore was thinking!

"Hey, Sweetie, foods ready!" Alexis called snapping her fingers in front of the 16-year-old's scowling face with a teasing grin. "Move your ass already, before I eat all of it," she threatened.

"You wouldn't," Hazel refuted, getting to her feet with a smile, "you'd be too worried about getting fat."

Alexis laughed and pulled out a chair for her young friend to sit down, smiling broadly at the pretty blush that coloured her cheeks as she did so. Gently tucking her friend under the table, Alexis scurried to her own seat opposite the witch and began to dish out the food for them both, needless to say, there was going to be a lot of leftovers tomorrow.

-

Christmas passed quietly.

After Lunch, the two girls bagged up the leftovers and stowed them in the fridge before washing all the dishes and heading into the living room where Alexis opened her backpack and withdrew a small mountain of presents.

Apparently the older woman had gone around their friends and collected the gifts they had bought/made for her before heading over. Hazel was stunned that she would go to so much effort, not to mention that her friends – who were already so generous towards her – had even gotten her gifts!

She would have to think up something nice for them.

She'd been saving up for a while now; perhaps she could book for them a day at an Adventure park, like Alten Towers or maybe a trip to Marwell Zoo just outside of the city? Ah, what was she kidding? Pint of beer and a packet of crisps would make the majority of them practically euphoric with joy.

Taking turns, the two of them tore into the wrapped parcels with glee.

Alexis loved corsets with an almost unhealthy glee, hence she nearly ruptured Hazel's eardrums when she opened a package from her father and found a gorgeous green and gold corset lined in black lace with a sweetheart neckline(1). Hazel was suddenly glad she hadn't bought that one, when she'd found out that Alexis liked them, she'd gone online and looked for some nice ones and found a pretty good site, they were expensive though and Hazel wasn't 100-percent certain on Alexis's size. She'd given the green and gold one a long eyeballing before deciding to go with something a bit safer, she'd logged off the internet, put her shoes on, walked into Town and found her way into Waterstones, Above Bar Street, where she proceeded to spend half an hour picking through various books and ended up buying her bestfriend-slash-crush three Terry Pratchett books.

She was ecstatic about the Terry Pratchett books – after all, her favourite Faeries were the Wee Free Men, she just didn't have any of the Tiffany Aching saga – hugging Hazel tightly and dancing around the living room gleefully. Accidentally-on-purpose groping the younger girl's bum as she did so before setting her back down on the floor, and with that, they went back to opening the rest of their gifts.

Hazel got a lovely notebook and pen set from Lauren, Amy had given her a card with ten quid in it so she could get something for herself – the majority of her presents were actually just money – while a few of the other ones were sweets, like Mars bars and Skittles. Amy had gotten her a corset like Alexis's but pure flawless white satin with bows and lace and ruffles, for a moment the young Witch was horrified at the sight of it before he tilted her head and looked at it a bit closer, it was beautiful but she just couldn't see herself wearing it.

She could tell Alexis kept wanting to say something, but she kept stopping herself before she could do more than open her mouth. Knowing how annoying it was to have people push you to talk when you weren't ready, Hazel just waited, Alexis would spit it out when she was good and ready, there was no point in pushing her.

Meanwhile, Alexis was shouting at her crush in her head to just _ask_ her what she wanted because she honestly had no idea about how to begin this conversation and it was _driving her __**insane**_.

But she didn't, so Alexis's didn't. And they both sat back to finish watching Book 1: Water of Avatar, and then after that they watched Shaun of the Dead and then the Last Samurai and then St Trinians.

They slept on the couch again and the next morning Alexis said her goodbyes and went home.

She never did tell Hazel what she wanted to say.

-

She'd booked the week between Christmas and New Year off as holiday and she planned on using it, one: She was going to her clearing in the forest for some Spell practice, and two: she was going to the nearest Rescue Centre and getting herself a dog – mainly so it wouldn't seem so suspicious that she was out there on her own in the first place.

She'd talked it over with Anka before she'd left for Russia and the other girl was fine with it, she preferred Dogs over Cats anyway, as long as Hazel was the one feeding, walking and cleaning up after it she was perfectly alright with having a Hairy Menace wondering around the house. The Landlady was cool with it as well, just as long as it wasn't one of '_those yappy toilet brush things, you know, the ones that look like fluffy rats celebrities carry around in their purses_'.

She would have liked to get a puppy but she knew that she just wouldn't have the time to train it properly and Anka would get pretty annoyed with any of the messes it would leave on the carpet.

Not knowing where the nearest Centre was, Hazel cracked open her laptop and went to .uk clicking '_Pages from the UK only_' she typed '_Southampton Dog Rescue Centre_' into the search bar and sat back, waiting patiently for the results to show on the screen.

1-10 of about 33,600 for Southampton Dog Rescue Centre.

Scrolling down the page a little, she decided to use the first link, '_Dog Rescue Pages – South-East England Centres_'. Scrolling down she hunted for any link near to where she was before landing on Blue Cross Adoption Centre, Bubb Lane, West End, Southampton. Excited now, she hit the link attached and pulled up the page for the Southampton Blue Cross Branch before checking on the 'Adopt an Animal' and reading through the ten steps, her good mood gradually fading over time.

Oh, oh dear, she hadn't thought adoption would take such a long time.

The first four steps of animal adoption were on the animal's part, vaccinations, de-worming, microchipping, vet check ups, behaviour assessments ectera, ectera. After that, the adopter has to fill in a questionnaire which the centre would use to match up to an appropriate animal, then they get to meet the animal and if they decide to adopt the centre goes over all the forms and the animal's own behaviour analysis to make sure there won't be any unhappy faces or returns, then there's a pre-adoption home visit, just to see if everything is alright and suitable. If necessary, the new owner may need to watch some videos outlining their new responsibilities and are then encouraged to visit the animal several times before taking it home, after that, the adoption fee is paid and a form signed saying that you'll take care of the animal or return it if you can't. Then you get to take your new Fuzzy Menace home.

Hmm.... that sounded like quite a stretch of time.

Sighing quietly, she shut down her little laptop and got to her feet, she could deal with all that when she got back from her little camping trip.

Rummaging through her books, she grabbed anything on charms, wandless and anything that even mentioned the words 'elements/elementals' and shoved them in her bag.

Raw elemental manipulation, she had never seen it done before, didn't even know if it were possible, but she was definitely going to try. Screw what the established '_masters_' said, she'd already defied death and impossibility more times than she cared to think about. She had a very interesting relationship with Impossible, both of them politely ignoring the other.

Which was just the way they liked it.

-

(1) Corsets UK, so pretty, I have at LEAST six corsets from there, the white one that Hazel got and my friend El has the green gold one that Alexis has.

And two: **I HAVE A FACEBOOK FOR YOU ALL. **Just go to my profile and hit the link if you want to add me, just remember to include a note so I know WHY you're adding me, if you don't I'm going to ignore you because I hate facebook whores who only add people because they want huge friends' lists. It cheeses me off something fierce.

**My aunty Alison's Civil Partnership Ceremony last weekend was gorgeous, she wore a beautiful pale lilac dress with white beading across the chest and a shawl, Shelley wore this kind of tunic dress that was a pale mother of pearl white colour and a pair of long white trousers. They both looked so happy. **

**I could complain for hours on end about my cousin Jim and my Uncle Wullie and his friends behaviour at the reception but I shall just say that the Hotel was lovely, Alison and Shelley are very happy and I'm now back home.**

**Review pleasums! **


	7. Chapter 6

**DISTANCE**

**Chapter Six**

* * *

There were times when Hazel wished she could just... leave civilisation all together and live in the tent away from humanity.

Waking up in her cosy warm tent and looking out onto a landscape of pure white was one of them.

Eyes wide, the young witch crawled out of her tent, hissing slightly as her bare feet crunched through the snow, sharp and numbing her skin. Even the little stream had frozen over. Silence filled the small clearing, not even the calling of crows filled the air, the insects were silent and the sound of running water had been halted. The snow muffled everything and gave the surroundings an otherworldly feel that sent shivers down her spine – shivers that had nothing to do with the cold.

It was so _beautiful_.

Green eyes drank in the sight. As Harry she had never stopped and looked and appreciated the world around her-him. Now, she found herself regretting that narrow mindedness as she spotted a frosted up spider's web, glistening in the early morning light as though it were encrusted with diamonds. Fingers never quite touching the beautiful yet frighteningly fragile construction, she wondered how Hogwarts looked right now, how different the forest would seem in the snow and the ice, would the lake be iced up? Would there be the usual snowball fights and hot-chocolate beside the fire in the Common room? Would Dumbledore be wearing whatever novelty hat he got from his Christmas Cracker? Or would everyone be too scared to leave...? Would Dumbledore be busy at the Wizengmot or fighting Death Eaters? Would people be looking for her?

Hazel dropped her hand and stared at her feet, red and sore looking in the flawless white snow.

She wasn't ready yet.

They would just have to wait a little while longer.

* * *

Drinking her tea, the young witch sat in the opening of her tent, book laid out across her lap as she flicked her wand in a practised motion, reviewing each and every Basic spell she could remember and then scribbling in a notepad whatever defensive and offensive applications of it she could think of.

Oddly enough, she managed to get at least a page for almost every Spell with the Summoning Charm reaching a staggering four pages of offensive capabilities. Summoning internal organs, objects from behind people, people themselves, the ground under their feet... A lot of the first year spells ended up with more than a few applications when used imaginatively enough – they mainly worked as distractions or irritants that would leave people open for the actual attack but it was good enough for now.

To be honest what she really needed was a Duelling Partner or at least an animated Dummy she could destroy; until that time, she just conjured dartboards and piñatas to improve her aim with a wand while reading up on various spells. Illusions didn't seem to feature that much in offensive Magic, it was considered rather useless or more trouble than it was worth – too much work, not enough gain. Hazel shook her head and scoffed at the ignorance of the Magical World, illusions were only useless in the hands of those who didn't know what they were doing with them, the unimaginative, the straight forward, the duellists. Illusions weren't _supposed_ to be honourable, which was one of those qualities that the Magical World tried to cultivate with an almost religious reverence due to its connections with Godric Gryffindor. Probably why it had fallen out of favour.

But Hazel could see the potential in it, the illusions. Especially when she coupled the Magical Hypnosis and the Sound Magic sub-branches she found within the Journals of those Half Blood and Muggleborn geniuses who were cast aside by the Ministry of Magic. There was even a _very_ interesting Journal detailing a young woman's experiments with Blood Magic and Ancient Runes, how she managed to make them work together and create a powerful variant of Wandless Magic – Hazel would definitely be looking into that.

She knew this training was going to take a _LONG_ time, and, heaven help her, she did a Hermione and drew herself up a Time Table.

Monday: Magic review, Hogwarts curriculum and adaptations – plus History of past wars against Dark Lords, she was going to need to learn at least a little bit of strategy, perhaps some Muggle History as well, guerilla warfare and Black Ops. She was going to need every single possible advantage – honourable or not – against Voldemort and his Death Eaters.

Tuesday: Ancient Magic. A lot more difficult than the usual stuff, the incantations were longer, they required more magical power and it required magical filtering of the ambient life energy around the caster. This was the magic Lily used to protect her child; it was the magic that Hazel was going to Master – even if it killed her.

Wednesday: Physical exercise. It was no good standing there and casting if everyone was casting at you at the same time, ducking, dodging, diving, running, she needed to stay fit and agile and if at all possible learn how to fight. A Martial Art would go very well, perhaps even sword-fighting – though she doubted she would ever find a Teacher willing to let her learn, especially in Southampton. Either way, she needed to stay fit so Wednesday was her workout day.

Thursday: Rest. Recharge magical and physical batteries, possibly spending this day meditating to try and get the hang of Occlumency and do a little bit of research into Animagus transformations. Just a day to do what she wanted – even if it involved sleeping in till noon and skinny dipping in the icy cold stream (It was surprisingly refreshing even if she ended up scuttling into her tent after ten minutes with blue skin and muscle cramps from shivering so much).

Friday: Undiscovered or disallowed magics. Weather manipulation, Sound/voice Magic, Blood Magic, Thread Magic, all those magics that had been crafted and created and then shot down by the Pureblood Xenophobic quarter. Hazel was particularly interested in the Spell Chaining and Magical Hypnosis.

Saturday: Another day to do whatever came to mind or whatever had caught her interest.

Sunday: Rest and then head home.

But, as usual, things rarely ever stuck to plan.

She ended up spending almost all of Tuesday and Wednesday practising Ancient Magic and even then only managed to get the very basic spells down as it took a long time to train yourself to draw it in and use it, upwards of 72 hours according to the books – it took less time for her mainly because she had been exposed to Ancient Magic as an infant, the touch and feel of summoning it up was familiar, at least that's what she _thought_ it was.

But at least she had fun with the physical conditioning in the snow even if she did end up retreating back to her tent red nosed and feeling rotten.

She got the feeling she was going to get a cold from all this.

* * *

Well, for one, she was far too skinny to be a suitable mate by any stretch of the imagination.

She was a Witch as well which was a turn off.

Might be one of those idiot ones who thought about Taming herself a Werewolf or Vampire as a lover – not realising that the '_Power of Love_' was not going to stop either of them from eating her. Or she could be one of those Pureblood Bigots.

Though he doubted that last one.

Her camping gear was Muggle and no Pureblood – regardless of their country of origin – would skinny dip in a half frozen river just to see what it was like. Let alone wonder around in bare feet. Plus, he'd caught sight of her eating peanut butter from the jar using a teaspoon – it had been something of a task not to snigger at the sight. She was a funny little thing.

Quite young as well, he decided, watching as the young Witch made a Snow man and conjured him his own hat and scarf, red and gold – a Gryffindor perhaps? Or just an admirer of the Lion house? She looked the right age for Hogwarts, why wasn't she there? Why was she here making a snowman? Christmas break? No, that tent had been there for a while.

She was about a foot and a half shorter than him, very thin and slightly scrawny, her hair was long and dark with a red taint to it, a rather unfortunate scar covering most of the left side of her forehead. Her skin was pale, not as pale as the snow around her but too pale to be healthy in any case, a few interesting scars as well, especially that odd one that stretched across her chest from the bottom of her ribcage, up between her breasts and stopping against her left shoulder. Not to mention the writing on her hand, the slashes on her arms.... Little Lady had been through the wars it seemed. A toughie or just a lucky victim?

Though... he was beginning to think it was the former. She was already touching into Ancient Magic and it hadn't even been 48 hours since she started.

He settled back to watch.

This would be interesting, was he watching the next Revolutionary of the Magical World?

* * *

"A Party?" green eyes blinked in surprise as she stared at her flatmate – Anka had quite literally arrived the day before Hazel returned from her trip to her campsite. The Russian girl never said anything, but it was easy to see she was burning with curiosity about where the younger girl went for the week.

"_Da,_ tonight, to bring in the New Year," the stocky woman explained, her accent so noticeably thick that Hazel almost didn't understand her.

"Cool, what kind of party and where?" she asked kicking her bag under her bed – she'd put her clothes into the wash later.

She said something in Russian but at the look on Hazel's face blushed slightly and corrected herself, "A drinking kind, I think. And Amy said she was holding it at her house," she explained leaning against the doorframe.

The witch nodded, Amy lived with Julian in his room, Joe and Neil shared a room, while Blondie and Lauren had their own bedrooms in the house – a four bedroomed Student accommodation not far from the University up in Bassett – about three to four miles away depending on what route you walk it. And they probably would walk it, or walk into Town and get one of the Uni-Link buses up to the Highfield interchange and hoof it the rest of the way. (At least Uni-link was the cheapest of all the running buses in the city, save for the free City Link that ran from the Ferry terminal to the train station.)

"It is a BOYB," the older girl added with a disgruntled expression.

BOYB – Bring Your Own Booze. What you bring you drink unless you want to share. No one ever shared with Anka because she had a liver made out of titanium and arsenic, the only things that would survive a nuclear holocaust would be the cockroaches and Anka's liver. She drank like a fish and put away more than her bodyweight in alcohol when she got started.

"Sounds like fun. Wake me up in time to get ready," the Witch requested, she was completely shagged out – bushed, she couldn't move even if she wanted to.

Nodding, the Russian left and closed the door quietly behind her as the dark haired sixteen year old fell back on her bed and curled up hugging one of her faintly vanilla smelling pillows to her chest. She'd get an hour or so's sleep and then wake up to get ready for the party. She had a nice white skirt that one of the others had spotted while they were on a massive girlie shopping trip – her Inner!Harry had recoiled in horror at the event yet had also been morbidly fascinated – she could wear it along with that white corset and a plain white blouse. Hmm.... she yawned and closed her eyes, snuggling into the pillow, yeah, she'd wear white tonight.

The only white speck in a sea of black.

She wondered if Alexis would notice.

* * *

Well, there was one thing Hazel could say about Amy's house.

She liked the painting of the yacht and that was about it.

The whole place reeked of cat and there was a shitty litter tray right beside the front door – Lauren had two cats apparently, a moggy called Fudge and a short haired grey by the name of Duster. There was hair everywhere, she didn't dare go into the kitchen because she could actually smell it from the hall way, at least the Living room was clean-ish and that was where everyone had congregated.

True to her sleepy decision, Hazel had opted to wear white – and she was actually the only one doing so.

Alexis had immediately pulled the younger girl to her corner where she had apparently hijacked Joe and Neil's beanbag from upstairs and made herself a nest out of said bag, several coats and a pillow. Blushing slightly, Hazel allowed herself to be bundled up with the older woman and watch the carnage as Julian and Sean steadily got drunker and drunker with Bruce and Blondie already making out in the corner. Why though, Hazel didn't quite know, she knew they were both straight and actually not attracted to each other in that way – she supposed that they were just horny and since Amy and Lauren, along with a few of the other girls, were finding it such good entertainment that they were hamming it up for the crowd.

Amusement soon turned to horror as, in a moment of drunken glee while Julian left the room for a bit, Sean logged onto the internet and changed Julian's background AND his internet homepage.

Revulsion crept up Hazel's throat in what was a suspiciously burning bile-flavoured package.

Parties with these people were very educational – _in all the wrong ways._

A Blue Waffle was set as Julian's background while a website that played the infamous 'One Priest, One Nun' was set as his Homepage.

Hazel couldn't actually watch One Priest, One Nun, she actually felt physically ill to the point where she turned away and stole Alexis's drink – Double Vodka and coke – and chugged it, much to the other woman's alarm and disappointment. She wanted to drink that!

Julian had not been happy when he showed up to find a picture of a diseased Vagina as his wallpaper – or a video clip of a nun rimming a priest and eating his poop. In fact, he punched Sean so hard the other man ended up with a bloody nose before being summarily dumped in the bath and sprayed with cold water until he sobered up enough to realise what a dumb idea it was to mess with Julian's beloved computer.

Hazel meanwhile cringed and hid in Alexis's lap as everyone got that little bit more rowdy and boisterous – she wasn't used to parties like this, but she was having fun, especially when they decided to put Black Books on in the background while somehow, Julian and Anka played Little Big Planet – and created the Amazing Captain Cape and the Strangely Effeminate Cat-Boy(1).

Then began the Count Down.

"One hour till Midnight!"

Anka finished off the Jack Daniels and ended up arm wrestling with Bruce on the broken Freezer.

"Half an hour!"

At this point Duster seemed to have found some kind of solace/shelter in Hazel's lap as the rest of the room broke out into a song she'd never heard of – something about being unable to find someone's mother so they fucked the dog... in the ass.

"Ten!"

"Nine!"

"Eight!"

Julian and Amy had already begun making out – too impatient to wait.

"Seven!"

Neil and Joe were snuggling and holding hands, it was oddly sweet. Lauren found herself being dipped by Blondie who was waggling his eyebrows rather ridiculously as Bruce quite cheerfully thrusted against his ass.

"Six!"

"Five!"

Alexis laughed and wrapped her arms around the Witch as they watched the chaos around them. For a moment, Hazel wondered if she should kiss Alexis.

It was tradition after all, to bring in the New Year with a kiss to someone you liked... or even a complete stranger. She'd seen Uncle Vernon do it before – though it certainly hadn't been Petunia he had been sharing that kiss with.

"Four!"

"Three!"

"Two!"

Mustering up that Gryffindor courage, Hazel turned around in Alexis grasp and nudged her until the older woman was looking at her – one eyebrow arched curiously.

"One!"

She leaned forward.

"ZERO!!" the occupants of the room screamed as fireworks went off outside and cheering could be heard from the other houses outside the open windows.

This all went completely over Hazel's head as she pressed her mouth against Alexis's rather clumsily – not used to the whole kissing thing she ended up bumping noses with the older woman before a hand came up to cup her cheek and move her into a better position.

It was short, and sweet, but it lasted long enough for everyone else to notice as the Cat Calls suddenly rang out with such fervour that Hazel yanked away and buried her face against a curious Duster's back as the cat blinked at the silly hyperactive and rather drunk humans around himself. Alexis gave them all the finger and went back to snuggling with Hazel, her heart practically singing in glee at managing to steal a few second of lip action.

Neither of them noticed the little frown on Amy's face.

* * *

Work again.

Hazel huffed lightly, blowing her fringe from her eyes as she smiled and balanced a dish of Salmon pasta while she set out a very hot dish of spag-bol(2) for the customer. She hated this job, she was good at it, no doubt, she just hated it.

She wasn't much of a people person and the hours were killing her.

Some people assumed Waitressing was easy, it wasn't, it was a bitch. And her feet hurt like one too.

What was worse was....

She could see Mr Ivanov at the bar again and he was watching her.

She was leaving Joe Daflo's soon anyway, she'd already spoken with Charlotte – one of the managers – about her little Stalker problem and the brunette had been quite understanding and agreed to allow the young Witch to leave when she found somewhere else to work. Even offered to give her a good reference. She really did have awesome co-workers, she was going to miss them all, except Kirsty who was bitchy as all hell and seemed to take enjoyment of forcing Hazel to work without eating as she often left for her split shift before Hazel could have her lunch. And since Hazel usually worked Day Shifts when Kirsty was on Split that meant that for the two hours between three and five Hazel couldn't have her lunch. And those two hours were the only stretch of time in the restaurant when it was quiet enough for her to even think about sitting down for five minutes to scarf a sandwich.

Joe's was a very busy restaurant.

It had been a week since New Years and... and Hazel hadn't seen Alexis since. Nor heard from her on Windows Live Messenger.

It was a little.... heartbreaking to be honest.

Not to mention a huge blow to her self-esteem – had she frightened off her friend by being a freak? By being gay – or at least into both genders?

She sighed and waved goodbye to the other Waitresses, it was nine O'clock, she was on the day shift today and yet again, Kirsty and gone off and left so she couldn't eat lunch – she was starving. Making her way to the bar she grabbed the keys to the cloakroom and shoved it open as the door tended to get stuck. She didn't bother to take her apron off, even though she was supposed to leave it behind no one had called her on it yet. Shrugging into her cloak and scarf, the young Witch left the restaurant quite distinctly aware of Ivanov following her.

Even after becoming Hazel, her temper had not improved in the slightest.

"Would you _please_, leave me the fuck alone you irritating creep?" the young Witch finally snapped, whipping around to glare poisonously at Ivanov who froze in the car park. "I have had it up to _here!_ With you following me around like some fucking stalker! Can you not take the hint that I am not interested in you or your life or your DICK!" she bellowed, loudly enough for the people inside the restaurant to hear her. "STOP FOLLOWING ME AND GO AWAY!!" she screamed.

"Hazel, is there a problem here?" Charlotte asked, appearing in the doorway and spotting the Russian man before her pretty features contorted into a look of anger, "Ah, yes, Mr Ivanov. David, call the police."

"Wait!" Ivanov exclaimed, panicking.

Charlotte's face may as well have been carved from stone, "Wait nothing," she snapped, "We aren't blind and nor are we stupid. Normally I would never be so rude to a customer but your behaviour has been utterly deplorable. You have been stalking and terrorising a sixteen year old girl to the point where she has been forced to leave my establishment just to escape you and your disgusting voyeurism!" the brunette roared marching down the steps, her high-heels clacking ominously on the tiled floor until she reached the tarmac of the car park.

"Police are on their way Char," David announced, an unpleasant look on his face as he glared at the Russian. Hazel was just sixteen and this sick freak was stalking her through their own restaurant! If it weren't illegal he would have decked the bastard!

Ivanov didn't stick around, he ran for it – just as two Panda cars(3) screeched around the corner.

Hazel didn't get home until 3am that night.

The next morning, she was greeted by a knock on her door, grunting and slurring out a 'come in' she hadn't been expecting anyone except Anka.

Instead, she found Alexis sitting on the end of her bed looking a little awkward and guilty.

"Hi," the older woman greeted.

* * *

**(1) the Amazing Captain Cape and Strangely Effeminate Cat-Boy:** XDD A joke from back when Scott and Becci were playing Little Big Planet. Scott is amazingly good at games, doesn't matter what kind, he's good at them. So in his hands, the Amazing Captain Cape really was amazing. And then he discovered slapping and dragging worked on his fellow sack men and the Strangely Effeminate Cat-Boy ended up getting raped in the corner while Becci flailed with the controller trying to throw Captain Cape off. Fun times. I miss them.

**(2) Spag-bol: Spaghetti Bolonaise.** In Joe's the dish for this is so hot that you can't actually touch it with your bare hands or you'll get horribly burned.

**(3) Panda Cars and their speedy arrival:** Panda cars are what we call the Police Cars over her,e the ones with the noticeable Police markings. As for how they got there so quickly, Commercial Street – where Joe Daflo's and the Mayflower theatre are literally around the corner from the Civic Centre and the Police Station for Southampton. They're building a new one near Bridge Road – it's going well. Got a fairly sizeable plot of land and construction is going well.

**Yes. I finally got them together and I'm getting rid of Ivanov. XDD **

**I'm really sorry everyone for the huge wait on this but Writer's Block hit and hit **_HARD_** with Distance. It's only recently I've been able to squeeze something out – while clawing at my leg because somehow the Cat has gotten fleas into my bedroom despite not having set a paw in here since before Christmas! (NINJA CAT!!)**

**Anyway. I hope to update faster in the future but please, don't hold your breath. X3;;;**

Araceil


	8. Chapter 7

**Distance**

**Chapter Seven**

**

* * *

**

_The next morning, she was greeted by a knock on her door, grunting and slurring out a 'come in' she hadn't been expecting anyone except Anka._

_Instead, she found Alexis sitting on the end of her bed looking a little awkward and guilty._

_"Hi," the older woman greeted._

Hazel made a sound in the back of her throat akin to a dying mouse before coughing slightly and saying, "Hi," back to the other woman, feeling just as awkward and uncomfortable as she no doubt was – though probably more because she was completely naked under her bed covers save for her panties (She had been so tired and so dazed from the events last night that she'd just stripped off and crawled under the covers, unwilling to put forward the energy to find her night clothes – now she was vehemently wishing she had).

The two just stared at one another in silence for a few moments, tension rising as Hazel recalled how she had just vanished for over a week after New Years, after the kiss, and how miserable and foolish she'd felt for that single five second mistake.

"I..." Alexis began, looking away and down at her fingers, Hazel absently noted she was wearing metallic green nail varnish, she'd been to see her father – his girlfriend was a beautician and apparently gave good advice, Alexis must have gone to talk to her because she rarely ever wore nail varnish. "I'm sorry, for just bailing. I... I needed to think things through and sort my head out."

Hazel shifted, pushing herself into a sitting position and carefully pulling the blankets with her, trapping them under her arms so that nothing naughty could be seen. "You needed to sort your head out?" she asked quietly, a little sceptically. The older woman winced slightly at the girl's voice, hunching over on herself and picking at the skin on her thumb anxiously.

"Yeah. Amy tore me a new one after the Party. She was really pissed off and scared, for both of us. She reminded me of some stuff and... Well... You... You're so mature sometimes, like you're older than you really are and I just... I forget that you're only sixteen. You're sixteen and you're alone in the world and... And what I did, at the party, I took advantage of that," the brunette explained bleakly, Hazel remained silent, just letting her lay it all out in front of her, "I... I guess I freaked out when she pointed out that you were still sixteen and that what I was doing could be considered Statutory Rape in America. I bailed, I just had to think, I was such a mess and I didn't want to fuck up any more than I already had."

"So you stepped out," Hazel concluded, somewhat relieved with the explanation as much as she was hurt by it.

Alexis nodded, still not looking up from where she was picking at her thumb, "Yeah. I thought about it a lot y'know, spoke to Clarissa and Dad, they give good advice," she fell silent for a moment, chewing on her lower lip and gathering her thoughts, taking a deep breath she continued with deliberate slowness, choosing her words carefully, "I figured out pretty early on that... That I do like _like_ you, a lot," Hazel's stomach gave a flip of delight at the admission, "And that... what everyone else thinks doesn't matter to me, well, it does, when it comes to the Crew and stuff but they've been egging us on since day one with the exception of Amy. But everyone else can do hang. But more importantly, what happens next is... ultimately, completely up to you," brown eyes looked up and into Hazel's _Avada Kedavra_ green ones, "You're mature enough to decide for yourself regardless of how old you are. The fact that you're doing better than anyone else in the Crew on your own just proves that. So what happens next, is up to you.

"Do you want to be my girlfriend?"

Hazel stared at her, "What about Amy?" she asked.

Alexis shook her head, "Fuck her. If she doesn't like it then it's not our problem. She can be as disapproving as she wants but everyone knows that you're the most mature out of all of us."

"She's your bestfriend though," the younger girl pointed out, unhappy at the thought of breaking their friendship up.

Alexis nodded, "Yup, she is. That's why she'll get over it and support us when she's got that stick out of her ass. So... will you?" she asked again, anxiously twisting the hem of her black hoodie.

Hazel swallowed hard, she had never been in a relationship before, she didn't count Cho as anything more than a snog and a bad date, an attempt at a relationship that crashed and burned before it even took off. But this... Alexis wasn't mourning for a dead boyfriend, she was sobbing and throwing wobblies everywhere, she wasn't glory hunting and Hazel... Hazel wasn't the same insecure little boy who had been nurturing a crush based on a pretty face for two years.

She must have taken too long to respond because Alexis abruptly looked down, hunching over defensively and twisting her hoodie almost viciously.

The Witch smiled, she took the plunge and leaned forward, pale fingers dropping onto Alexis's and startling the older woman into looking up.

Hazel grinned at her, stomach doing flips, "Yes, I would like that."

What happened next was _not_ what usually occurred during romance movies, there was no epic kiss or steamy romantic sex, Alexis smiled and laughed in relief as she hugged the smaller girl's hand to her chest. Hazel giggled a little at how ridiculous they both were, making mountains out of molehills and feeling light and slightly giddy with adrenalin over what she had just done.

Eventually their laughter faded away and the two just sat there holding hands and smiling stupidly at the walls.

"Can I kiss you again?" Alexis suddenly asked.

Startled and still riding the high, Hazel froze and nodded stupidly.

The kiss was slow and sweet, Alexis was very gentle as she teased Hazel's mouth open, one hand gently guiding her head while the other slid down her back and pulled her a little closer, the blanket slipping free and causing Hazel to squeak and jerk back, yanking them up to her chin with a flaming red face. Alexis roared with laughter as she flopped back on the bed, kicking her shoes off while giggling with mirth at the Witch's embarrassment.

Brown eyes twinkled mischievously, "No need to hide away Sweetie, I'm sure they're gorgeous – certainly feel like it," she teased, making the sixteen year old groan and glare at her, nudging her with a foot.

"Pervert," she complained only to find herself pushed against the headboard and her mouth otherwise occupied in a much more... forceful fashion than before.

Alexis smirked as she broke away from the now dazed and breathless Witch, "You love it really," she purred before kissing her again.

* * *

The past two months had been a roller coaster of delirious glee, boredom and stomach wrenching anger and anxiousness.

Her relationship with Alexis was great, there had been a bit of an issue with Amy in the beginning, the girl was nervous about how their relationship would be received by others – particularly by the police after an incident where her boyfriend Julian almost ended up on the sex offender's register after his previous girlfriend turned out to be a lot younger than she claimed to be, and considering the fact they were both the same sex they would be looked at just that little more judgementally. She came around though, she had actually been alright with them, just concerned with the age difference and repercussions that their relationship may have.

Hazel had set a kind of rota in which she would see Alexis, every other weekend she would go to her little Camp site to practice magic – she said that it was a visit to what little family she had left that she liked up in the New Forest, they were homophobic so she didn't want to introduce Alexis to them and possibly have to deal with any fights. The lie worked well enough. The rest of the time she spent with her girlfriend where they were both free.

She was still working at Joe's, having not yet found somewhere else to work.

But Nikolai... He had gotten the best Lawyer he could afford and managed to slither his way free of all charges – regardless of the public outcry once the local newspapers got hold of the story, thankfully, due to the fact that she was under eighteen Hazel identity was kept secret. Hazel _needed_ to find a new place to work, she was – she just couldn't stay at Joe Daflo's anymore. She just couldn't. Even the thought of going to work there, getting on the bus heading over there made her stomach churn and her mouth go dry.

It was odd, she was a damn powerful Witch, if she desired she could kill Nikolai Ivanov. But that would bring the Ministry of Magic down on her head and then the Pureblood's attentions and Voldemort's because no one knew that Regulus Black had birthed children. There was no evidence of them and Hazel had been very careful with her dealings with the Goblins and the Swiss. Which was something she didn't want to do. Ergo, she was just as helpless as any other muggle woman in this situation – helpless... she _HATED_ being helpless.

She had been working her ass off in Occlumency to calm herself down, a small breakthrough having slammed into her head while watching an episode of One Piece – oddly enough. Mediation to clear and order the mind, master self discipline and calm the fires of battle, when she read the book with this idea in mind she realised that _this_ was the key she had been missing. Focus. Locking the mind onto one thing and blocking out all else, silencing her thoughts.

And then, thinking about it, she realised that she had actually been doing this since day one.

Snape burrowing into her mind and reaching for those plans about her escape, she focused so hard on something else it was like the memories were pushed aside, his focus slamming the doors on those memories and squirrelled them away where Snape couldn't reach them without breaking through the memories she had thrown in his face.

When she was in that café, job hunting, the headache she had that she thought was purely from frustration, how it abated somewhat when she glared long and hard at the wet spot on the paper – thinking back, didn't it get at least twice as big? That couldn't have been normal.

And then at Christmas, when Alexis was cooking and Hazel was suffering from that headache and she hugged her, squishing their breasts together and her brain latched onto a music tune to distract her from it. How she focused her whole mind on it so she would calm down and not react to her rather compromising situation. How the headache vanished as she did so.

She felt like hitting herself.

How could she have been so goddamn stupid? She'd been doing Occlumency all along, she just hadn't been controlling it or knowing it! She was just trying to distract her conscious mind.

Through the break through of Occlumency she found that her memories were a lot easier and clearer to remember, she could control her emotional state with greater success – heck, when some idiot at the Restaurant called her a slut and a gold digger for '_leading Mr Ivanov on_' she hadn't stabbed the bitch with a steak knife, just given her a look of such frigid disgust that the woman stuttered to a halt in her passionate ranting before asking her to leave the Restaurant as she was making a scene and disturbing the other customers. Hazel had actually received a standing ovation from a few of the tables after the woman had left – received a twenty pound tip at that!

Not to mention that her meditative trance to find her Animagus form was becoming a lot easier, specific memories were parading through her mind, sensations cherry picked from each of them that connected her to her animal form. Thus far, she had figured out that it was a predator – the taste of meat confirmed that – and that it was a flyer or just very extremely fast with a love of heights, and non magical. When she finally figured out what species her form was she could get started on the potion to discover it's exact form and then the research and self transfiguration stages – there was a _reason_ it took her Transfiguration Prodigy Father six years to figure this out, and he had a lot less information to go on (though she was fairly certain it took so long because they were playing pranks, doing homework, detentions and having to help Peter at the same time).

Either way, things had gone up and down so much that she was looking forward to a holiday to be honest.

Having David appear at her elbow during one lunch break was alarming, but the photocopied advertisement for Waiting Staff had her hugging the ebony skinned man tightly in relief.

The best thing was, Zen Japanese Bar and Restaurant was literally just twenty minutes away on foot, heck, she could ride the 18 to the end of the route outside Primark and only have to walk for 5 minutes down the High Street to get there!

Hazel applied immediately, then and there.

Charlotte even let her use the office phone.

* * *

Hazel didn't think she had been this side of the Bargate before, she meandered down the freshly fallen white snow, her head on a swivel as she took in the more historical buildings and the shops. There were a surprising number of Banks down this end, closed shops and offices as well. And a strip club.

She goggled.

Of course she'd _heard_ of 'For Your Eyes Only', it was hard not to with the kind of friends she had but seeing the building herself, nestled between an Indian take out and a Mediterranean themed bar was... surprising. It was fairly late in the afternoon, she'd been allowed off at five by Charlotte so she could go to this interview – Hazel was going to miss everyone at Joe's, she'd have to drop by and visit every now and again.

She gave pause when she saw the little blue A-board stood outside the door between the club and the Indian Take Out 'The King and I'.

'_**THE OCEAN GYM **_

**Southampton's premier Martial Arts Fitness Centre**

**White Collar Boxing**

**MMA**

**Thai Kickboxing**

**Personal Training**

_**www oceangym co uk**_(1)'

She eyed it seriously for a moment, she had been thinking about improving her fitness and learning a way of fighting if she ever lost her wand. And there was the pressing issue of being unable to use Magic, so if Ivanov cornered her she would essentially be helpless.

Her mouth was dry as she stared at the sign.

Shaking her head, Hazel firmly closed her eyes and marched past it, she could go back later or check online to see what they were about. Getting this job was more important than learning how to throw a punch, besides, Zen was right there in front of her, just across the road on the corner beside the clock tower.

It was a large two floored building done in tasteful crème and black with orange trimmings, proudly displaying the name '_ZEN_' in vertical silver letters above the door which was flanked by two small circular trees. Pulling a little tighter on her coat, despite it being February England had been buffeted by an unaccustomedly cold spring, heck, half the county had ground to a stop with all the snow and ice – which was probably why Charlotte had allowed her to clock off earlier than she usually would have done. The restaurant was practically dead.

Shuffling her way to the building, the dark haired girl crossed the road at the pelican crossing and hurried inside, brushing her feet off on the matt before pulling her scarf and coat off. The interior was surprisingly dark, the bar right in front of her with a pretty blonde woman lazily flipping and twirling a bottle as she chatted to a rather Asian looking man in a suit. It was a nice building, she could definitely see the Japanese influences here and there but for the life of her she didn't understand why the waitresses were talking to each other in Chinese. Wasn't this a _Japanese_ restaurant?

She decided to approach the Bar, "Um, excuse me," she called, catching the blonde woman's attention from where she had just finished fiddling with the till – the bottle put away while the Witch had been studying her surroundings. "I'm looking for one of the managers, Mr Chang, he should be expecting me," she explained self consciously as she patted down her somewhat windswept hair.

The woman suddenly grinned, "Ah! You must be the new girl!" that was definitely a Russian accent, she sounded like Anka, "Name's Antoina, won't even try getting you to say my last name, Tonia's fine," she said with a bright smile, gesturing at Hazel to take a seat at the bar, "Chang's popped off for a second, cheeky fag break out back, he'll be back in about ten minutes. Can I get you a drink while you wait?" she asked cheerfully.

"Just water please, nice to meet you Tonia," she waited until the woman pushed the glass of water towards her, so cold it was already misting up the glass, "_Spa__si__ba_(Thank you)."

The woman laughed, "You know Russian?" she asked, delighted. Apparently not many people could.

Hazel giggled, "_Ya nye__mno__ga gava__ryu__ pa-__ru__ski_ (I speak a little Russian)."

Tonia giggled, "Almost perfect, not quite though," she pointed out. Hazel smiled ans shrugged as she took a sip of her water.

"I only picked up a little from listening to my flatmate. I know more Bulgarian and Chinese than I do Russian," she admitted.

Tonia nodded, "Chinese will help. Even though this is a Japanese restaurant most of the people here are Chinese or Korean, apparently they're all attending the Uni. Chang doesn't much care what language they speek as long as they understand English and look somewhat asian. Most Westerners can't tell the difference."

Hazel pulled a face, she got the feeling she wasn't going to get along with this Chang fellow.

* * *

She was right. She didn't get along with Chang but she kept her mouth shut and spoke only when spoken to, answered the questions clearly and professionally. She didn't give him any personal information because frankly he was testing the limits of her '_creep-o-metre_' enough as it was.

But she got the job.

Which was always a good thing.

She started in two weeks. Which meant that she would be leaving Joe's tomorrow – like she said, she wanted a damn holiday.

She would spend one week with Alexis and the other at her Training Camp.

She would be putting her plan into action that day, she'd been aware of someone spying, observing her for a while, the fact that they were under very light Notice me Nots and Disillusionment Charms told her they were magical in origin so she wouldn't have to worry about being unable to train. But they hadn't done anything but watch and it was more than a little annoying and _creepy_, not to mention stressful with everything that Nikolai had been putting her through.

Speaking of.

She stopped beside the A-board before growling and stabbing at the buzzer on the side of the door.

There was a pause before a man's voice came across the intercom, "_Hellow Ocean Gym_."

"I'd like to book onto one of the courses, please," Hazel spoke into the receiver.

"_Sure, c'mon up_," the man's voice told her, the door beginning to buzz as she shouldered into it roughly, pushing her way into the building. The hallway was dark and she could see a flight of stairs and a mirror at the top, climbing up she flinched slightly as light flooded the hallway and she could see a second flight reflected in the mirror and a pair of thin hairy legs clad in red silky shorts waiting for her.

"Hello, you said you were interested in booking onto a course?" the man asked, he was rather short with a thin face and a close shaven head, he had a friendly smile though and Hazel found herself liking him for that alone.

"Yeah," she admitted, wriggling out of her coat and scarf, "I've been planning on learning some self defence for a while, I just didn't know where to go," she admitted nudging her shoes off at the man's pointed gesture.

"Well, you've come to the right place. I'm Sean, one of the Instructors here. Have you given any thought to what you'd like to do?" he asked, leading her into the Gym where she could see the class, all clad in similar shorts as Sean with shin pads and boxing gloves on, practising kicks and punches against one another.

Hazel pulled her eyes away as they stepped into the office, "Not really. Definitely not Boxing though, my cousin used to be a Middle weight boxer for his school and the sport just leaves a bad taste in my mouth when I think of it," she admitted self consciously.

Sean gave her a long look, "You said you'd given thought to it before, any particular reason why?" he asked, "If I know then I might have a better idea of what to recommend," he added when he saw the tight look on her face.

Hazel shrugged her shoulders, "Bad childhood and the fact that I'm being stalked by a psycho with a fetish for weapons," Wands counted as weapons and Voldemort technically was as much of a stalker as Nikolai.

Sean nodded, looking sympathetic, "Well, MMA is definitely out, you'll be wanting to keep your distance from them if they're into weapons and MMA focuses a fair bit on grappling and ground work. Takes a fair bit of pure physical strength as much as it does thinking. Ju Jitsu doesn't play as bigger part of the sport as I'm sure many of us would like," he got to his feet and rounded the desk, gesturing at the young girl to follow him out into the Gym, "Out there you can see some of the fighters practising Muay Thai, Thai Kickboxing. They'll be finishing up in about ten minutes so why don't you sit down and watch for a bit before telling me if it's something you'd be interested, right?"

Hazel nodded, smiling at him, "Thank you."

* * *

In the end, Hazel decided to sign up for Thai Kickboxing, it seemed like fun and at the end – especially for her – Sean asked one of the fighters, Allen, to join him in a demonstration in disarming someone with a dangerous weapon. His dangerous weapon being an empty can.

Still, watching the quick take down was fascinating and Hazel couldn't wait to learn. If she got the wand off any Pureblood they would be helpless. Utterly _helpless_.

* * *

**(1) I removed the dots so that Ffnet wouldn't remove the site. Ocean Gym is a real place and yes, it's where I go for Thai Boxing. Now, before anyone jumps down my throat – I ONLY KNOW THAI BOXING, no other Martial Art, and as I mentioned before, I'm not going to Bullshit and write about something I don't know only to end up insulting someone who takes something like that very seriously. So yes, Hazel is learning Thai Kickboxing because I am, and because she kind of needs to learn how to defend herself without a Wand. **

**THERE IS A METHOD TO MY MADNESS!**

**Also, yes, she and Alexis are together now. No, there will be nothing more graphic than snogging and a bit of groping. That holds true for any and all pairings that will be featured in this story.**

**And yeah. The one time I actually went to Zen and ordered in Japanese the woman there was Korean and didn't understand a word I was saying. I listened to the waiting staff and realised they were speaking Chinese most of the time. And considering how I live near the University I know that a lot of the students there are Chinese. Which is fair enough. Annoying when I'm fairly certain I'm getting slagged off but meh.**

**And yeah, there was a Russian barwoman the last time as well. Surprisingly she was actually the daughter of one of my dad's Russian friends. **

**Hope you guys enjoyed this chapter! It has been unbeta'd so forgive me. I just wanted to put it up.**

Araceil


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